Mutation
by SamanthaRose
Summary: Mutated strains of the infection, new friends and the thing that Ishmael has been waiting so desperately for... Sequel to They're Changing, Zoey X Hunter
1. Scene 1: Parker

Author's Note!!

Welcome to the sequel to "They're Changing" and get ready to enjoy the continuing adventures of Ishmael and the four Survivors from Left 4 Dead! I'm setting this one up a little differently, and you will see why soon enough!

Read on, faithful readers! Read on!

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…

…

"Parker, time to wake up."

Jan kept her voice soft enough that it wouldn't wake her partner Steve; a smile touched her face upon seeing Parker curled up beneath his blanket with almost an almost innocent look on his face. She reached out her fingers and brushed the dark hair from his eyes as he stirred, managing not to jump this time when he seized her hand and began biting it.

He never broke the skin, but his teeth were sharp and his bites still hurt. She hoped they could break him of that habit before the scientists deemed him ready to join the rest of society.

"C'mon, sleepy head," she laughed softly, tugging the blanket off of him and receiving a rather disgruntled sigh in response. "We need to get you fed and cleaned up; you've got more tests to do today."

He was beginning to understand certain words very clearly these days, and 'tests' was one of them, his dark, silver-grey eyes turning to look at her ruefully.

"I know… It can't be helped, though. I want to be able to go into the town someday, and the sooner we finish your tests; the sooner we can go in. And when we're in there, you can have all the cookies you want!"

There was a groan across the tent that made Jan roll her eyes, exhaling shortly. Steve rolled into a sitting position and glared at her, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.

"Him and his fucking cookies. I swear, if he jumps on me again while I'm trying to eat; I'm going to shoot him whether you or the military likes it or not."

"Woke up on the wrong side of the sleeping bag again, dear?" Jan called in response, watching Parker roll around like a dog in his bed while he tried to wake himself up.

"I'm just… I dunno. I want to go into the town too, but I don't want to go into the town with HIM in tow. The sooner we wash our hands of him, the better." Steve dragged his fingers through his thick blonde hair, grumbling some more as he moved to get his clothing ready for the day.

"We can never wash our hands of this now, we're the ones who brought him back; remember?" Jan protested, taking Parker's arm and pulling him to his feet. "The kid is pretty helpless, especially for one of the infected. And since we know you're not immune and you're not changing or being infected by being around him, it's safe to assume he's different than the others."

"You're obsessed with him, you and I hardly ever talk anymore; not since we dragged his sorry ass up off that ledge," Steve pointed accusingly at Parker while he spoke, the Hunter completely oblivious to the fact they were talking about him. He was busy rooting through a pack across the room in hopes of finding some food. "Look at him! He's like some… retarded kid."

Jan took that opportunity to straighten, walk over to him and kick him soundly in the shins, the resulting yelp and look of shocked indignation on Steve's face making it all worthwhile.

"Shut up, and be nice; there's a good chance he understands you, and as I said, he's still infected. Super rabies, remember? Don't piss him off; we're trying to make a good impression." When she turned around to tend to Parker again, Steve stared at her back with wide eyes. "They're sick people, not monsters. Sick people who don't know any better anymore. The fact that this one seems to know better and seems to genuinely want to change and be a good person just kills you and I don't know why!"

"You wanna know why?" Steve's voice was very soft, and Jan looked round at him, a flicker of guilt crossing her face when she saw his expression. "You wanna know why I hate that thing so much?"

"If you think I'm going to leave you for him, you're wrong; this kid is young enough to be my son," Jan replied dryly.

"It's not that… We finally make it to safety, we finally get home free and away from that city infested with death and disease; but we're not allowed to rejoin the rest of society. And you wanna know why we're not? Because you decided to bring home a stray. I want to go inside, have real food, sleep in a real bed, talk to other survivors, but because HE came into our lives; I'm fucked and all I get is this." He gestured around the tent, tears now streaming down his cheeks. "All I get is hard ground, rations and your company, and your stray sniffing around and acting like an animal."

"You know what?" Jan's voice had dropped to dangerously soft, but even the warning tone in her voice didn't wipe the hurt look from Steve's face. "If you want, you can go; I'm not going to just abandon Parker for a hot meal, an actual working shower and the possibility of sleeping without having to take watch shifts, Steve. He's a survivor, just like we are."

"Maybe I don't want to just survive; I've been surviving long enough, haven't I?" Steve let out a soft, incredulous laugh. "I mean, we both have. Why shouldn't we be allowed to actually LIVE?"

"Because no one in this broken down world is actually living anymore, Steve; all of us are survivors now." She waved her hand in dismissal at him. "Go to the gates. Tell them you want in. Parker and I will be fine on our own."

During this conversation, Parker had turned to regard them with his head tilted to the side, a frown on his face. He often did this while they were talking, as if he were attempting to understand what they were trying to say. One of the only reasons Jan had brought him along with them was his own ability to speak, however broken it was. He had asked them for help, she had provided it.

The infected had been severely dehydrated, injured badly and exhausted when they managed to dislodge his arm from the wall of Mercy Hospital and drag him up onto solid ground; she was surprised they managed to save his arm after his full weight had been supported by it for close to five days.

Steve had been amazed at first, but the amazement had turned to bitter brooding and sullen silence when he realized they weren't going to be able to go into the town right away. The silence and brooding became anger quickly, causing him to lash out and often take out his frustrations on Parker.

The Hunter took it all in stride, but Jan tried to get Steve to stop.

Bad things happened to a dog if you punished it too often.

She knew jealousy was definitely part of the problem. The heated stare Steve had given Parker as the poor boy clung to her in the helicopter, shaking and whimpering, couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

Steve's voice brought her mind back to the present, Jan's brows knitting as she listened to him.

"You'd rather me go away than suffer here in banishment, how noble. I see now who matters most to you." As he leaned down to scoop up his things, Jan took in a breath.

"When Parker turns out to be the answer to all this going away and our lives can finally get back to normal, Steve… you'll be singing a different tune." She walked over and opened the flap of the tent for him; the two of them staring at each other for a long moment in silence before Steve finally shouldered his pack and stalked out.

…

He watched the exchange with his head tilted, trying to pick out words, but they were just speaking too fast for him. He heard the word they had given him for a name several times, so the conversation they had must be about him. The word they used for him was different than the one his female had used.

His female called him something that was a little easier for him to say… he had been practicing when the two humans who now sheltered him were asleep. The name these humans had given him was a little different and he hadn't quite gotten the hang of it yet. Perhaps, when things were a little quieter, he would tell this new female the name he had been given before.

Part of him felt a little lost and lonely at the thought of his female; part of him felt a little guilty that he didn't know her name.

When the male human left the tent, the new female didn't move for some time, not even bothering to look over at him. She stood staring at the floor, then breathed a soft sigh and came to join him, the smile that touched her face not quite genuine.

She said something and then gestured outside, which meant it was probably time for him to get cleaned up for his tests.

He hated the tests they put him through: the needles and the questions and the careful observation, they treated him like a thing rather than a living being; and all of them wore suits and masks as if they were afraid he would spread this terrible disease to them.

The new female was gathering together his clothing, probably in anticipation of being able to wash them while they were at the lab for his tests, blinking in surprise when something fell from the pocket of his sweater.

He shuffled over to her to see what it was; he hadn't remembered putting anything in his pockets after all.

When she turned it over in her hand, a rather sad look crossed her face; she looked down at him with a smile that was laced with regret. After hesitating, she reached out and handed the object to him.

For the first time since hearing the voices of the female and her mate on the roof, five days after the helicopter left, his heart swelled with relief.

The object was a card; the card had a little picture on it…

A picture of his female.

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

I'd like to thank UlluoaNicanor again for assisting me with editing and my terrible comma habit. ^.^ I'm hoping to pick a few tips up just by reading through my work after it's been edited. Haha!

Hope you enjoy the first chapter, there will be more to come soon!


	2. Scene 2: What's in a Name?

Author's Note!!

I work in a deli and I ended up cutting off the tip of my thumb today, which REALLY REALLY cuts back the speed with which I can type, damn it all…

I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update! I will try to make the next chapter up faster.

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…

Jan had never liked scientists.

More than simply disliking them, she didn't trust them as far as she could throw them, and it was because of this she travelled to the lab every few days to watch over Parker as he underwent tests. More often than not it was just blood tests, but they sometimes tested his reflexes or agility, or tested his inhibitions caused by the extensive injuries he had received.

Jan made sure they didn't treat him too much like a dog, reminding them gently that he was just like them; only sick.

Most of the scientists were humbled by this, but some gave her cruel smiles and choruses of "Oh, of course."

Parker hated the blood tests the most, his aversion to needles rivaled only by his aversion to being naked. Or bathing; it was hard to really tell which it was since they went hand in hand.

Today more blood was to be taken, and they were looking to test his speech and reading capabilities; Jan always felt so bad for the boy during these tests…

After having his blood taken he was tired, and attempting to understand their words or speak them upon instruction taxed him to his breaking point.

There was a very good reason why the scientists were immune.

When the one helping Parker with flash cards let out a loud yelp, Jan grimaced.

"Still haven't broken him of his bad habit?" The dry voice of the head scientist, Jeffries spoke from behind her, her face split into a reassuring smile as she turned to face him. "I thought you were trying to get him to stop biting."

"I'm trying; it's hard on your own." Jan replied, Jeffries offering her a terse smile.

"I understand completely. Isn't your partner also-" he stopped speaking upon seeing the look that crossed her face, his expression and tone softening. "Ah. Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay here?"

"Parker hates being here; he associates this place with pain and frustration," Jan replied, looking at the Hunter through the window that separated them. Parker was on top of a table now, playing a game of 'you can't catch me' with two orderlies. As Jan watched, he launched himself easily across the room, crashing with a yelp into some chairs stacked in the corner. "I'm sorry you didn't get a lot of progress done today."

"It's fine, can we count on your continued efforts? He seems to respond well to you." Jeffries smile turned more genuine.

"I think the fact that I treat him like a human being helps," Jan smiled politely. "So yes, you can count on me; the last thing I want is for him to end up spending the rest of his life under a magnifying glass being poked and prodded so you people can see how he ticks."

"We would have been perfectly happy with any Hunter, but this one doesn't attempt to kill us every time we turn our backs," Jeffries replied, Jan offering him an apologetic shrug. "And the deceased ones decay far too quickly for us to examine, not to mention their bodies are hot with the infection."

"What about the blood you keep taking from Parker?" Jan asked, frowning. "He's infected too."

Jeffries paused, a slight smile touching his lips.

"There's something very different about Parker, all of the blood samples we've taken have been clean." When Jan stared at him blankly, he continued. "They're free from the virus; it's led us to the conclusion that he may no longer be contagious. We've been combining his blood with the samples taken from all the other non-immunes and immunes alike on the base, but no contamination has been occurring."

"But he's not cured," she breathed, Jeffries slowly shook his head.

"No, he's not; but with any luck, he won't get any worse."

"I suppose that's something to look forward to." Jan sighed very gently, watching as the orderly bribed Parker from the corner with cookies. She was silent for some time, aware of Jeffries watching her; she then cleared her throat and reached into her pocket. "I wasn't going to show you this, or anyone else for that matter, but something tells me Parker wouldn't approve of that. I have a feeling he would have wanted me to make it known."

Jeffries took the card she held out to him with a thoughtful noise, eyes widening.

"The survivors who came right before you… this girl was with them; where did you get this?" He asked softly.

"Parker had it in his pocket, I don't think he even knew he had it," Jan continued to watch the young infected in the other room who was now actually sitting down and looking at flash cards.

"You've grown very attached to him, I see." Jeffries didn't look back at her, and a guilty feeling gnawed at Jan's stomach. "I thought that might happen; there are many here who have, too."

"That kid possesses a type of magic. Something… magnetic." Jan's voice was soft. "And even if he's cleared to join the rest of the survivors in the town, and he's reunited with the girl on the card; it doesn't mean I'll lose him. I don't think he'd give up on me now. Not like Steve."

"Your husband might come to his senses when he realizes how much he needs you, how much he owes you." Jeffries turned to leave, Jan's voice making him pause.

"What exactly does he owe me?"

"I got the results of his blood test back…" Jeffries tapped his fingers on the door frame and let out a gentle sigh. "Your husband isn't immune."

When he finally left Jan standing there in silence and staring at her own reflection in the window of the room Parker was in, she took a few minutes to recover from the information that had just been handed to her. It slowly began to dawn on her just what Jeffries had meant.

He would never have made it this far if it hadn't been for her help. He never would have escaped alive and untainted.

She had to go and find him.

…

When they returned to the tent, the new female was rather quiet and withdrawn, making him wonder if he had perhaps done something to upset her. She didn't make eye contact or attempt to speak to him for some time; he finally got lonely enough to tug on her sleeve to get her attention.

When she looked at him, she offered a gentle smile; he reached out and pressed a finger into the center of her chest, careful not to harm her with his claws.

"Aaaah…hnnn." He frowned, sticking his tongue out slightly as he mused over what he was attempting to say. The female stared at him, stifling a giggle behind one hand, her eyes wide. "Ssshhhh… shhhaaaanh."

It took her a moment to realize what he was attempting to do, eyes widening more and a gasp escaping her throat.

"Jan!" She cried, pointing to herself. "Jan!"

"Shhaaanh." He grinned eagerly at her, and then shuffled a little closer. He pointed to himself, Jan repeating the name she had given him and smiling in return. He shook his head ever so slightly, her head tilting to one side as she blinked in confusion. He turned his clawed finger to point to himself, still smiling. "Issshhmael."

"Ishmael." She murmured, another eager grin lighting up his face as he nodded. "Ishmael?"

"Issshhmael." He breathed a soft sigh, leaning in to embrace her shortly. She let out a soft laugh, and then pulled the picture card from her pocket, offering it to him.

As she handed it to him, she pointed to the name next to the picture.

Ishmael looked up at her eagerly, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Zoey." She said clearly. "Zoey." Pointing to the picture as she repeated the name, she gestured for him to try it. Ishmael frowned and shook his head.

The name was too complicated just yet, but he would certainly practice it while she was sleeping. He had the feeling talking to himself while she was awake was a little too strange, especially for an infected.

Zoey… his female's name was Zoey!


	3. Scene 3: Sirens

Their jubilation didn't last long.

Jan's smile faded when Ishmael suddenly tensed; a growl issuing from his throat as he turned to look at the entrance of their tent.

Her nerves hadn't recovered from her time trying to escape the city, so she reached for the gun she had hidden under her pillow before she ventured to the door; taking deep, even breaths to stay calm.

Ishmael tagged along with her, crouching low next to her leg as he glared out the tent flap at the figure crossing the grass towards them. Jan glanced down at him, and then looked back up; the dimming light making it difficult to see who it was at first. When the figure got closer, she saw it was Steve; his hair freshly cut and the circles under his eyes a little darker.

"Ah. Very good Ishmael; you'd make a wonderful guard dog." She patted the Hunter on the head, but he didn't stop growling, teeth now bared, wickedly sharp and gleaming in the fading light. "What's the matter, it's only Steve."

This didn't seem to matter to Ishmael, who scuttled forward to shield Jan with his much smaller body when Steve reached them.

"What's wrong with him?" Steve asked with a frown, Jan arching one eyebrow.

"Other than having a bad attitude right now, nothing- Ishmael, what the hell?" The Hunter had taken her sleeve in his mouth and was now attempting to pull her back towards the tent, ignoring her attempts to swat him away.

"Oh, so his name is Ishmael now?" Steve asked dryly, regarding the Hunter with a scowl still firmly planted on his face.

"His name was Ishmael before, he just told me." She managed to dislodge the Hunter from her sleeve, but Ishmael proceeded to leap forward and rake his claws across the grass in front of Steve, letting out a typical Hunter's scream. "Holy shit… Ishmael; be quiet!"

Jan's eyes were wide as she crouched down and clapped her hand over Ishmael's mouth, acknowledging the teeth that sank into part of her hand with little more than a grimace. The Hunter continued to glare up at Steve with those silver grey eyes, the human man taking a step back and swallowed nervously.

Sirens in the town began to go off, huge flood lights coming to life and bathing the area in harsh, artificial light; shouts from the guards rang out and Jan groaned, putting her hand over her eyes. She looked down at Ishmael who had leapt into the air at the noise of the alarms and was now crouching like a frightened animal on the ground, eyes wide, body stiff.

After realizing what the noise was moments later, Ishmael looked back at Steve and released another feral growl, narrowing his eyes.

"Something's wrong, I've never seen him act like this before." Jan looked over at Steve, shaking her head and frowning.

"Take him back to the doctors then! Leave him there!" Steve's voice was high and filled with panic, his hands shaking as he pointed towards the lab. "They can deal with him, he's obviously lost it."

"Either that or he knows something we don't yet." Jan kept a careful tone in her voice, meeting Steve's eyes. A hurt expression had returned to his face, but she supposed she couldn't blame him… she had, after all, just accused him of being the problem.

"Well then, what should I do? Your pet doesn't approve of me; did you teach him that to get me to keep my distance while you finish getting to know him?" Steve spat, Jan straightening up again. Steve was taller and outweighed her rather willowy frame in spades; but the look she was giving him was enough to make him shrink in on himself.

"As I said, I've never seen him behave like this before; if I were you, I'd go and get checked out. This Hunter's on our side, and he wouldn't try to attack someone just because they're fighting with someone else. I have a feeling that scream was a warning or a challenge, Steve." She said calmly, Steve making a rude noise.

"If I wasn't immune, I would have gotten sick and died in that hellish city we just escaped from." He pointed towards it to emphasize. "Or gotten sick and tore you limb from limb while you were sleeping."

"Steve…" Jan's expression softened and she sighed, dragging her fingers through her short black hair. "The doctors told me today that your blood tests came back. You're NOT immune."

Heavy silence rang out between them, Steve's face hard to read as he searched hers; chewing over the information and attempting to digest it.

"Parker… Ishmael… whatever; he bit me."

"He's not contagious; they got the blood tests for that today as well." Ishmael tilted his head to the side every time they said his name, but Jan didn't laugh as she normally would have. Things were too bad right now for levity.

"So what does that mean? Am I a liability?" Steve asked quietly, Jan shook her head. "What do they plan to do with me?"

"I don't think they plan to do anything; you're not the only one here not immune. In fact, the non-immunes outnumber the immunes ten to one," she explained, Steve relaxed a little but was unable to keep the disappointment and fear from his face now. "You should go and get yourself checked out, just in case."

"Wouldn't it be better not knowing?" He whispered, Jan's face twisting.

"And risk killing or infecting everyone on this base? Damn it Steve, sometimes ignorance is NOT bliss. Besides, if you ARE infected, you're going to know one way or another, and so are the rest of us."

The sirens continued to scream outside, Ishmael turning in circles as he tried to focus on both them and the squabbling couple at once. His agitation seemed to grow when gunshots rang out in the darkness, Steve shifting uncomfortably.

"The siren's probably attracting whatever infected might be lingering around here; you should stay here for the night." Jan's tone left no room for argument, and as much as Steve hated it; she was probably right. He glanced at Ishmael, who snarled savagely at him as they made eye contact, but chose to ignore him for the rest of the evening.

When the sirens finally stopped, Steve had fallen asleep in his usual spot at the back of the tent, Ishmael stood and carefully watched over Jan as she tried to sleep as well.

His hovering didn't bother as much as it once had, and his growling was a little unnerving but not terribly disruptive, so constant it eventually acted a little like a lullaby.

He was trying to talk before she closed her eyes, but her tired brain couldn't make out what he was attempting to say. She would ask him about it in the morning…

…

…

…

The sirens woke Bill first, but it was the sound of mournful keening across the room that made him leap to his feet, hair on the back of his neck standing up. When he went to investigate the source of the noise, he found Zoey sitting up in the middle of her bed, knees clutched tightly to her chest, her eyes wide and tears streaming down her cheeks.

At first he wasn't sure if the girl was awake, but when she turned her blue eyes to him, he saw them focus on him and cursed softly.

"You got so far kid; don't break down on me now," he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out to pull her close.

Where had her strength gone? Perhaps another of the nightmares that had been plaguing her had taken hold, the sirens when she woke making things that much worse.

She pressed her face into his willing shoulder and let out a mew of protest, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"What's the matter, Zoey? What's gotten into you?"

"Oh God, oh God, I'm so sorry." She swiped hastily at her eyes, burying her face in his shoulder again. "I don't know what came over me. I heard that shriek, heard the sirens… I thought, for a moment, it might have been Ishmael. But Ishmael's dead! He's dead! It can't be him. God, I wish they'd make those sirens stop…" She moved her hands to clasp them over her ears, Bill staring down at her in alarm.

She was a mess. Hysterical.

"Let me get you a drink," he murmured, kissing her hair and her forehead before releasing her and standing. He had some rum tucked away that had been given to him a few days ago… she wasn't legal, but he would be damned if he left her in this condition; a few sips probably wouldn't hurt her.

He grabbed a cup of water as well, bringing both his flask and the glass to her as he sat back down on the bed. She had calmed down a bit, but there was no stemming the flow of tears. He supposed they had to come out eventually, the girl had been doing a good job keeping herself from breaking the flood gates down in the two weeks they'd been here, attempting as best she could to readjust to normal life.

Well, as normal as it could get. Zoey accepted the water but ignored the booze, leaning against him as she drained the cup and gasped quietly for breath when she was done. It took several more long minutes for her to pull herself together, his hand rubbing her back gently probably helping quite a bit. It was only a few minutes after that he realized she had fallen asleep on him, her soft, even breathing giving it away.

With all of them having their own beds, he sure as shit wasn't going to sleep sitting up…

Instead, he lay back on the bed with her still cradled against him, shifting to get comfortable and closing his eyes.

Right now, he was throwing out caution and civility and gentleman-like ways to keep her company, her nights had been interrupted by terrible dreams as of late, and while she hadn't ever woken up in such a state; it was clear whatever she was seeing was effecting her greatly.

Bill could never admit it to her, or get her hopes up, but he, too, had immediately thought of Ishmael upon hearing the cry of the Hunter outside. It was impossible that the little bugger had managed to survive…

But stranger things had happened.

…

…

…

Author's Note:

I know things haven't been too terribly exciting, but here's a taste of the plot to come!


	4. Scene 4: Infection

Author's note!!

This part of the story will find a little more plot, hopefully a little more action. Thanks for reading!

…

…

…

The call came rather early in the morning, Ishmael's snarl alerting Jan from sleep more than the rapid rattling of the phone as it vibrated its way off the desk she had placed it on.

Her hand flew out and caught the back of his shirt before he could pounce on it, dragging him backwards and draping one arm over him to hold him down as she felt around for it. She managed to get hold of it and flipped it open, her voice slightly thick and slurred as she spoke.

"Hmm? Hello?"

"Jan? It's Jeffries."

Jan sat up immediately, though she still ran a hand over her face and took a deep breath to wake herself, clearing her throat.

"Hello sir, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She murmured, voice a little more coherent.

There was quite a pause before the scientist spoke again, taking a loud audible breath.

"I'm afraid I have some… news to give you."

"Don't keep me hanging doc, spit it out." Jan frowned and gripped the phone a little more tightly, after the good news yesterday, and her husband returning; what had the doctor discovered that could take all that away?

"Alright then." There was another pause, Jan found herself leaning into the phone in anticipation. "We've finally gotten clearance for Parker; he can go into the town now and become a citizen. We feel this is a major breakthrough in medical science and hope he will be sort of like a ray of hope for the people that the worst is over."

Even before Jeffries finished speaking, Jan leapt to her feet and let out an ecstatic whoop, leaning down to hug Ishmael fiercely. The Hunter struggled to get away from her, a bit of panic in his face and a yelp escaping him at her sudden noise and movement. He didn't understand, but he could tell she was happy at least. "Oh!" Jan turned her attention back to the phone, trying to catch her breath. "I forgot… His name isn't Parker." "It's… not?" Jeffries sounded completely confused, which was understandable.

"He told me his name last night. His name is Ishmael, I was thinking we could use both for his ID card, maybe call him Ishmael Parker. No reason he can't have a last name, right?" As Jan spoke, she hugged Ishmael again, receiving an affectionate nuzzle in return.

"I-I don't see why not!" Jeffries let out an incredulous laugh. "I've got to get back to work, but the guards at the gates shouldn't stop you this time. Just make sure people don't crowd him too much; we don't want him to pounce or bite anyone, even if he can't infect them anymore."

"Right, of course; thank you so much!" When they hung up, Jan hurried to wake up Steve; he had managed to sleep through her ecstatic cheering. He looked a little better today than he had last night, but there were still great dark circles around his eyes and he seemed to have a bit of a fever. "Steve! Steve! C'mon, wake up; we're going for breakfast."

"Going?" Steve murmured, shifting under his sleeping bag and grumbling. "What do you mean, going?"

"We've got clearance to go into the town… now we can go get real beds and sleep in actual buildings and eat good hot food and leave this awful little tent behind!"

She laughed triumphantly and hurried from the tent, Ishmael following her quickly.

Her eagerness was contagious, and he wasn't sure just what he was supposed to be excited about, but he felt excited none the less. Still, there was a sense of urgency in the way he tugged on her sleeve to stop her, and she couldn't stop grinning as she paused and looked down at him.

Ishmael looked back at the tent, now some ways behind them from how fast they had been moving, his expression twisting ever so slightly.

"Oh, he'll catch up, don't worry," Jan murmured, starting to move again before Ishmael leapt in front of her to bar her path. "What is it? Don't you want to go into town? We could find Zoey there!"

Ishmael pointed back at the tent.

"Hhiiinn…fec…ted." He growled.

It had been clearer than anything else he had said since the day they rescued him.

It chilled Jan to the bones.

…

…

…

"Son of a whore."

Louis cringed when the words issued forth from Francis' mouth, however quietly they had come. He understood rather clearly, though.

When they returned to the room they all shared after an all night game of risk with some of the other guys on base, they found Zoey and Bill sleeping together on Zoey's bed. Fully clothed, simply sleeping; but sleeping together none the less.

The stab of jealousy that moved through Louis' body made his mouth twist, he let out a sigh.

"Let's wake them, let them know we're back." Francis said, Louis shaking his head.

"Nah, they were probably up last night because of the sirens. Leave 'em be for now." He waved his hand dismissively, shooing Francis away from the bed.

The biker grunted in discontent, seating himself on his own bed and tugging his heavy boots off. He let them drop to the ground with a crash and a muttered 'oops', the desired effect he had been hoping for achieved when Bill sat up with a start, looking around wildly.

"Morning, cradle robber."

"Wha'?" Bill muttered, looking over at the bed beside him and startling again. "Oh… no, it's not what it looks like." He slid off the bed and stretched, stifling a yawn behind his hand. "She got spooked last night and fell asleep after crying all over me."

Bill's eyes swept over the both of them.

"Where the hell did the two of you get off to?"

"We were playing games in the hall with some other guys," Louis explained, taking off his shirt and hanging it beside his bed. "Gonna try and take a nap, I don't feel like sleeping all day. Might become nocturnal."

"What's wrong with that?" Francis grumbled, still glaring at Bill. Zoey hadn't stirred, still curled up on the bed with her brown hair spread around her head. Her pyjama pants had crept up so they could see her skinny legs and her shirt rode up just enough to reveal the pale flesh of her stomach and back. Bill glanced at her, then reached down and pulled a blanket up over her with a short sigh.

"I don't really feel like sleeping all day and being up all night. Sounds boring." Not to mention, Louis added silently to himself, it felt a little too much like when they were still running from the city. "Hey, you guys hear that Hunter last night?"

"Yeah, it was hard not to," Bill muttered, moving to the entrance of the tent and lighting a cigarette. "Makes me wonder if this place is compromised."

"I think they would have let us know by now if it was." Louis turned his gaze thoughtfully to Francis, who had already passed out on his bed, on top of the covers and with his precious leather vest still on. "Besides, I didn't hear any screaming, or howling, or snarling of any sort."

"I guess you're right about that. Get some rest; I'll wake you in awhile." Louis nodded at Bill, and the old man moved around Zoey's bed, contemplating whether or not he should wake her.

They weren't running anymore, but he didn't want them to get too comfortable about sleeping half the day away. In case they needed to run, they had to be on their toes still.

She looked peaceful, and she had a rough night… for the time being, he'd let her sleep.

Someone called out to him from the entrance of the tent, the old man turning with a frown to face the source of the voice. He saw one of the messengers that often delivered notices from the leaders and medical team, updates and other important things; the frown disappeared as he offered the younger man a gentle smile.

"Hello there, son. Got some news today?" He asked, holding his hand out for the paper the boy was holding.

"Something like that." The young man shot a glance at the bed where Zoey was still sleeping and Bill cleared his throat. "Um, the notice regards the newest survivor who will be joining us today. There are a few ground rules the leaders wanted to go over so things don't get out of hand."

"That's awfully odd." Bill remarked softly, opening the paper and reading over the headlines. "What kind of survivor is this?"

"An infected one who… isn't really infected anymore… well, he is; but he's not contagious. They gave him clearance this morning, and he and his handler should be arriving anytime now. No weapons are to be used against him and if any aggressive behavior is displayed by him, it's to be reported immediately to the authorities. The rest is smaller things… like don't feed him or treat him like a dog and stuff. Apparently he's really intelligent."

The messenger offered Bill a smile, brushing off the startled look on his face as the same reaction all the others had when they read the paper and heard his explanation.

Little did he know, Bill's reaction was for a much, MUCH different reason.

"Son of a-"

…

…

…

"What do you mean, infected?" Jan kept her voice low. They were close enough to the gates now that if she yelled, the guards might hear her. She wanted to shout, to scream, her emotions raging up inside her all at once. "What do you mean?"

Ishmael frowned at her, and then pointed firmly towards the tent again, a growl issuing forth from deep in his chest.

"They would have seen it on the tests." She protested, Ishmael hissing at her as she said the word. He looked back towards the tent again, then towards the gates; his expression was expectant when he looked back at her. "Maybe he's just sick with something else and it smells bad to you, you probably don't know what a human whose sick smells like."

"Sssick." He repeated, once again pointing to the tent.

"Yes, Ishmael, maybe Steve is sick."

Jan could have kicked herself… she should have forced him to go to the lab last night instead of letting him sleep there. If Ishmael was right, and he was infected, there was no telling when he would turn and what he would turn into. If Ishmael was wrong, then there might be something else wrong with her husband.

No matter how much they didn't see eye to eye, she still cared about him deeply and didn't wish any sort of ill upon him.

Before she went back, though, she needed to get Ishmael inside. It was time for him to rejoin the others that were in there, the others that he had almost sacrificed himself to save.

They deserved to know where he was and how he was doing, after all.

The further from the tent they got, it took quite a bit of coaxing to even get Ishmael to move again, the less he growled and carried on. When they approached the gates and Jan moved to address the guards, Ishmael stared at them in wide eyed wonder.

They had big guns, but they weren't trying to shoot him. In fact, one of them smiled at him in a friendly manner, causing him to shy away and hide behind Jan's leg.

"It's alright, Ishmael, no one is going to hurt you," Jan murmured to him, taking his hand and pulling him into an upright position, nodding to one of the guards as the gates were opened for them.


	5. Scene 5: Sweet Reunion

Bill hadn't exactly told her what was going on or why he had woken her from sleep to go stand at the gates in the cold morning air, but Zoey made the best of it by cuddling into her jacket and leaning close to him as they mingled with the crowd.

Bill kept craning his neck to see over everyone, his actions making her curious and eventually causing her to start doing the same thing.

"What is it?" She whispered to him, he frowned and held out a hand that indicated she should be quiet. "You're acting really weird."

"Hush, Zoey, you'll see in time," he murmured.

In truth, Bill was trying not to get her hopes up, just in case the infected 'survivor' wasn't actually Ishmael. He hadn't told her because he didn't want her to rush out here and find out it was some other infected, break down and lose herself in the emotions that had caused her to scream at them in the helicopter.

He thought back to the one morning they had set out from the safe room, the first night they had all spent with Ishmael in the room. Zoey had been on first watch that night, he was sure something had happened between her and Ishmael.

The gates began to open, all of the people in the crowd falling completely silent. Guards had gathered as well, to make sure no one had the brilliant idea to shoot at the newest survivor whether it was out of panic or spite. There were mixed feelings about this whole situation.

Not everyone saw it as a ray of hope for the future.

Zoey leaned up on her tiptoes to try and see what was going on, blinking in surprise when someone on a picnic table offered her a hand up. Looking up, she saw one of the soldiers that was taking refuge in the city, offering him a smile and accepting his assistance. She was really short, after all, and she couldn't see as well as Bill could.

Bill watched her carefully, giving the soldier a polite nod but sticking rather close to Zoey none the less. He had protected her this far; he wasn't going to let some hotshot young soldier get the wrong sort of idea in his head about her.

The silence of the crowd broke into excited chatter at the sight of the willowy, dark haired, middle aged woman who walked in, the figure following her hiding behind her for protection.

"I need to ask everyone not to crowd him!" The woman shouted in a husky, pleasant voice, holding up one hand. She had no trouble being heard over the crowd, making Bill wonder what she might have done in her life before all of this began. "He's very shy, and he WILL bite you if you don't give him his space. He's not contagious, so even if he DOES; you're safe."

The woman turned to speak to her companion briefly, offering him a reassuring smile and turning back. She began to scan the crowd with her eyes, frowning ever so slightly after the first few sweeps…

Her eyes came to rest on Zoey. The two women held eye contact, and then the one at the gates graced Zoey with a brilliant smile. Bill's eyes widened as the woman reached behind her and took her companion's hand, drawing him forward. The crowd erupted into chatter once more, and Ishmael startled, trying to draw back.

"Too many damn people," Bill growled, reaching up to take Zoey's arm in his hand. "C'mon, sweetheart."

Zoey was completely speechless at first, moving with Bill through the crowd that was pressing forward, all of them shouting questions or wanting to get closer to Ishmael and his 'handler' as the messenger had called the woman.

"You've gotta calm him down, or this is gonna get really messy." Bill said loudly to her over the shouting of the crowd. Zoey swallowed, trying to find her voice and ending up settling for a nod. "Did you give him something?"

"W-what?"

"Did you give him something to identify you? That woman looked right at you as if she knew you, Zoey."

"I-I…" She took in a slow breath and let it out as a soft laugh. "I gave him my ID. I slipped it in his pocket when I kissed him goodbye."

They didn't speak again until they had pushed their way to the edge of the crowd, Bill cursing softly beneath his breath when he saw the woman attempting in vain to calm Ishmael down. He was growling now, looking at the pressing crowd with a feral light in his dark eyes, his claws twitching on the grass.

Zoey stared with an anxious expression on her face, her brain working a mile a minute to try and fully grasp just what she was seeing. She had spent these last weeks attempting to convince herself that Ishmael was dead…

And here he was, very much not dead, very much alive and here and in one piece. He hadn't fallen.

He hadn't fallen and they had left him behind.

Guilt like she had never felt before filled her, shame and grief crowding it, making the tears well up in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat had seized. She wasn't sure that he would even care that she was here, she wasn't sure if he would ever be able to forgive her for leaving him for dead.

"Pull yourself together," Bill murmured near her ear, making her blink and look up at him. "He almost died for you, and if you let things end like this; you'll never recover. Go to him, Zoey."

She turned her eyes back to Ishmael, whose chest was heaving as the woman who was with him rubbed his arm and spoke quietly to calm him.

The guards stopped her as she moved forward a bit more, so she wet her lips and took a breath. If she couldn't go to him…

He would come to her.

…

Too many people, too many voices, too many smells and too much shouting. Ishmael felt his head spinning, the darker side of him roaring up and threatening to swallow him. He fought it as best he could, focusing on one voice in particular to keep from losing it.

Jan was right beside him, touching him, speaking to him, though there was a tense look on her face instead of her usual gentle smile.

He was scared, he was angry; this wasn't at all what he had wanted.

There was a break in the crowd, but the emotions boiling inside him made it hard to distinguish one face from another. He only saw dark shapes, people with guns, heard their voices shouting from all sides.

Putting his hands over his ears, he let out a mournful cry, pressing his face into Jan's shoulder and feeling her arms wrap around him.

Then suddenly, her presence was gone and her voice rose loudly over all the others. He had never heard her scream this way before, and he understood the words she said. He remembered the big human man his fema-… Zoey had travelled with using them all the time.

"SHUT UP!!!"

The crowd was still shouting for a few seconds after that, but as the guards echoed her words to those that simply weren't listening, the crowd finally fell silent.

In the silence, Ishmael felt his boiling blood begin to calm down. In the silence, he was able to get a handle on his thoughts.

At first he wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, the lingering scent on the breeze among the others, the sudden voice that reached his ears, shouting just as loudly as Jan had as if giving him exact directions to where she was standing.

He lifted his head slowly, not wanting this to simply be a figment of his imagination. He didn't want to look around hopefully only to find that he was wrong.

Two of the guards had turned, now grappling with someone that was standing behind them, Ishmael's eyes focusing on them for a moment. It was from behind these two guards that the voice came again, and this time he knew he wasn't hearing things.

The muscles in his legs coiled like springs, though the injured one protested slightly, his claws digging into the grass as he crouched low. Jan looked at him in alarm, her eyes shifting from him to the girl the two guards were holding back.

"ISHMAEL! Ishmael, it's me; come to me!"

He was fixed to the spot, unable to move; all his muscles were ready to release and launch him through the air towards her. The guns the guards were holding were the only things keeping him back now, but the expression on his face had changed from one of fear and anger to one of relief and joy.

"Just let her through, God damn you! Ask that lady there, she'll tell you what's going on."

Jan moved towards the guards now, her voice joining the others, the crowd once again beginning to speak. They weren't shouting as they had done before, they were simply talking quietly to one another, the back ground noise not enough to stir the darkness inside him.

Ishmael waited, not wanting to cause any sort of standoff or provoke the guards with the guns. He forced his body to relax, straightened from his crouching position, his eyes fixed on the spot he knew she was standing.

It didn't take long. It really didn't take long at all.

The guards finally parted, a groan escaping his throat when he saw her standing there before him, a frightened look on her face.

A look that very clearly said "Do you forgive me?"

He tilted his head to the side, holding his arms out to the sides in invitation, unsure of exactly what he was supposed to be forgiving her for. He supposed she might be blaming herself for them escaping and him being left behind; he would have to find some way to tell her it was nonsense.

He had sacrificed himself so she could live.

She hesitated only a moment more, and then she was running towards him, launching herself into his open arms and driving them both to the ground.


	6. Scene 6: Mutation

Steve didn't make it to the spectacle. Steve instead headed directly for the lab, leaving the ruined confines of the tent he and his wife had shared with the mongrel Hunter behind in a state of destruction caused when he had thrown something of a fit upon not being able to comb his own damn hair.

The rage that had exploded from him was terrifying…

He felt feverish and frightened, moving into the lab as if in slow motion and stopping at the front desk. His vision was a little off, a little blurry, but he attributed it mostly to his lack of proper sleep as of late.

"I need to speak to a Dr. Jeffries?" He murmured to the woman behind the desk, who looked at him with a blink.

"What is the nature of your visit, sir?"

"It's Steve, Steve Hayner, nature of my visit? I just need to talk to him, I might need to get checked out." He paused, swallowing a few times, his breath a little short. The woman behind the desk straightened in her chair and glanced over at a few of the medics standing nearby.

They were watching him as well, one of them resting her fingers on a phone that was attached to her belt.

"I think… I think I might be sick," Steve whispered, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

To have come all this way, only to fall now… it just wasn't fair.

…

…

…

Zoey didn't really care what the others whispered as they watched her and Ishmael embrace. She didn't care that they stared, she didn't care what they thought… all that mattered right now was him, here with her, alive and well and as whole as he could be.

Ishmael let out a soft noise, claws gripping the sweater she wore and face pressing firmly against her neck, his soft tongue darting out to drag over her skin.

Face flushed, she lifted her head to look down at him, beaming a most radiant smile at him. Not even Bill taking her arms in his hands and hauling her to her feet could break the mood.

She was walking on air.

"Is there somewhere we can go? I'd like to make sure Ishmael's in safe hands before I go to finish up some business outside town," The woman was saying, her voice coming from a million light years away.

"Back to our tent's as good a place as any, I suppose," Bill murmured in reply. "Sorry we had to interfere, I'm sure you coulda done a good job on your own, but-"

"No no, I understand your intentions. Ishmael hasn't been around this many humans before, I'd wager by his reaction."

"Good thing I'm not a bettin' man." Bill drawled, keeping a firm hold on Zoey's arm and sighing as she took Ishmael's hand and led him along with them. "Otherwise I'd take you up on that wager."

"By the way, I'm Jan. Jan Hayner. My husband and I found Ishmael while we were waiting for evac from Mercy Hospital. It was a miracle the poor thing was still alive," The woman continued, keeping pace with them easily. She was taller than both Zoey and Bill, but extremely slender, probably from lack of food while attempting to escape.

"What's a miracle is the fact you didn't shoot him, if I were in your shoes and didn't know who he was, I would have." Bill admitted, Jan offering him a brief smile. "Bill, by the way. And you know Zoey's name already."

"I would have, too, to put him out of his misery. If he hadn't asked for my help, I wouldn't have thought twice." She replied.

"Asked for help?" Zoey piped up, looking down at Ishmael as he repeated the word and pointed at Jan. "Wow… last time I saw you, you couldn't quite form words. You've come along nicely, Ishmael."

"He practices persistently, to be honest." Jan's voice held a hint of amusement. "My husband didn't care for him, but I kept him around. When I found the card, I… well, I had mixed feelings. I was worried he'd go off and forget all about me."

Ishmael said Jan's name, patting her on the leg, throwing Zoey into a fresh bought of beaming. Bill chuckled, shaking his head.

"Our other friends are still sleeping. One of them was just napping; the other can sleep through hurricanes." He glanced at Ishmael, who was now sniffing the air excitedly. "Maybe our friend here can give him a rude awakening, goodness knows he deserves it."

"What has he done this time?" Zoey asked, releasing Ishmael so he could go running ahead to the tent.

Bill's cheeks flushed, causing Jan to raise an eyebrow and Zoey to smirk.

"You can probably already guess what the asshole had to say upon seeing us sleeping this morning. I tried to explain, but the meathead wouldn't have it."

"Not at all unexpected of Francis."

Jan lingered at the flap of the tent as the other two moved inside, glancing back behind her briefly with a look of concern on her face. She hadn't seen Steve come in during their entrance, and now there were people following them through the town. No doubt they were curious about Ishmael…

She began to have second thoughts about bringing him here.

Another reason for her hesitation was the fact that Zoey and her friends seemed so closely knit, there wasn't room for another in their midst. If she got shut out, there was a good chance she wouldn't be able to see Ishmael anymore.

That thought broke her heart.

Choosing instead to be assertive, Jan entered the tent, looking around with a gentle smile. Someone must have raided a mattress store or something, there were mismatched beds placed in the tent that looked much comfier than sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag.

Two of the beds were occupied, one by a dark skinned young man who was being cheerfully greeted by Ishmael, the other by a giant of a man whose snoring filled the enclosed area.

Bill beckoned for her to join them and she wandered over with a smile.

"Can't stay long," She breathed, already feeling a pang of guilt for lingering as long as she had.

"Yeah, I heard ya. Business," Bill murmured, lighting a cigarette and releasing another sigh. "Even when we get a moment to rest, there's more business to attend to. Reminds me of the damn war."

…

Jeffries stormed into the lab, his coat swirling in his wake and his expression grim, one of the orderlies immediately leaping to her feet to join him.

"Report," he growled, the girl stammering appropriately in response as she fought to keep up with his long legged stride.

"We've rechecked all of his blood samples, sir, and we've detected something that was NOT there during the first tests. Something is changing in him," she grimaced as he slammed the door to the blood lab open, both the medics that were inside looking up in shock. "We didn't miss it the first time, it simply wasn't there."

"That doesn't make me feel any damn better." Jeffries turned to face her, snatching the chart she clutched away from her. "What about the wife?"

"Still immune."

"I have a theory," Jeffries murmured, handing the chart back to her and dragging his fingers through his hair. "She's a carrier. Whatever this is, he got it from her."

"He's not ill, sir." The orderly protested, hurriedly pushing her glasses up on her nose and tucking dark hair from her eyes. "He's… it's… There is something in his blood, an agent we cannot identify. It is causing a mutation."

"So he's mutating?" Jeffries asked quietly, the girl nodding her head in affirmation. "Mutating into what?"

"If we knew, sir, we would have told you," she murmured in reply.

"Is he sedated?"

"Heavily."

"Good." Jeffries dragged his fingers through his hair again and sighed shortly. "Make sure he stays that way. There's no telling what he's going to become."

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

And there we have it, Chapter 6 with a lovely reunion and a look into the slowly developing plot! Stay tuned to find out more!

Another thank you goes out to all those reviewers without accounts for me to reply to! I take the time to reply to each and every review, but if I've missed any, I apologize! I'll get you next time, I swear!


	7. Scene 7: We Have a Theory

Sometimes, Ishmael hated the instincts that had been hammered into him by the infection. It never wanted to let him slow down, always wanted him to push forward, go, hunt, feed, take… sometimes even kill. He had managed to bury many of those instincts, and the more he learned about these humans, the more he focused on trying to speak and trying to understand, the easier it became.

The instinct that was welling up in him now as he sat in the tent with Zoey and Jan and the other humans was getting very hard to ignore indeed.

He desperately wanted to get Zoey alone. Tasting her, breathing in her scent again only reminded him of the scarce moments they shared together while the others were unaware or absent. He would give anything for one of those moments right now…

His silver grey eyes stared up at her eagerly, taking in her appearance and presence and making a slow smile curl across his face.

They were all talking, but he didn't fancy trying to understand them.

Not right now.

All that mattered right now was her, beside him, close enough to touch. He straightened from where he crouched, ignoring the way the biggest human stiffened where he sat, his clawed hands reaching out to touch her.

His female… it was so good to see his female again.

…

Francis eyed Ishmael warily as the Hunter straightened. He knew they were more dangerous when crouched to pounce, but he wasn't used to seeing him stand like that and the overall image was a little intimidating.

Imagine that, he told himself. You're intimidated by a scrawny kid you could probably have snapped in half on a bad day. Raking his eyes over Ishmael's form, he grunted, shifting them to gaze at Zoey.

She seemed blissfully ignorant of the fact that Ishmael was pawing at her with a look in his eyes any guy could recognize. It didn't go so far as to sicken Francis, but it sent a little shiver squirming up his spine. It didn't sit right with him, seeing an infected think this way, and no matter how much they had travelled together, this was somewhat of a safe zone and bringing an infected into it seemed a little too much like Russian Roulette.

It didn't help that he'd come pretty damn close to liking Zoey in the past weeks they'd spent together, and while he didn't push the matter at all; he could clearly see that all the effort in the world to make her notice wouldn't mean a thing right now.

Ishmael was now growling to get her attention, which she gave to him quite willingly, the two of them sitting down on the floor together to 'talk.' Mainly, this consisted of Zoey talking to Ishmael and Ishmael attempting to mimic the words she was saying.

He had gone from dog to goddamn parrot. Maybe falling off a couple buildings had jarred something loose in that already fuddled head of his.

Reaching up to run a hand over his freshly shorn hair, Francis breathed a deep sigh, turning his eyes away.

His eyes met Bill's, the old man standing with the woman who had saved Ishmael from the top of Mercy Hospital. When their gazes held, Francis could tell Bill's thoughts paralleled his own without even needing to say anything. Maybe Francis wasn't the brightest man on earth, but there were some things he understood quite clearly.

This was the ninth inning, and the rookie had just made a winning play.

It was at that moment Jan's phone buzzed across the desk she had set it on, the woman turning to look for it hurriedly. Francis thought it was odd behavior, being so worked up over a phone call, but the reason for her almost frantic search became clear when a dark figure soared through the air, landing heavily on the desk and snatching up the phone before she could grab it.

Ishmael stuffed the phone in his mouth, leaping easily away again before Jan could catch him.

"Oh Jesus, not again… Ishmael!" She shouted, pointing to the spot in front of her. "Come here, this instant! Bring that back!"

"What's the beef he's got with your phone?" Francis grumbled, raising an eyebrow at the Hunter.

"He associates phone calls with tests." A hiss came from across the room, strangely muffled by the phone Ishmael was still gripping in his teeth. "Every time the phone rings; he thinks he's going to get more. I've got it on vibrate to keep him from hearing it, but the little bastard is a fast learner and I seem to have a bad habit of setting it down on hard surfaces."

Jan hurried towards Ishmael, who leapt off again, this time landing next to Bill. The old man turned to grab him, but the Hunter scurried out of his reach faster than he could move, soon ending up diving under Francis' bed.

Strangely luminescent eyes peered out at them, the glowing of the phone also visible, and soft growling issued forth from beneath the bed. It was as if the little bugger was daring them to even try to take him.

Now the parrot dog was a cat as well. True to form, he batted at hands and faces that got too close, not hard enough to actually hurt them but enough to surprise them the first few times it happened.

"Have you tried telling him the tests are over?" Bill couldn't keep amusement out of his voice, lighting up another cigarette.

Jan sighed softly and dragged her fingers through her short, dark hair.

"You try telling him. He won't believe me, considering I'm the one who kept dragging him there for tests in the first place." She muttered in reply, Bill stomping over to the bed and shooing the people sitting on top of it off. He crouched down to look beneath it, Ishmael offering him a cheeky growl, and then Bill snapped his fingers sharply.

Silver grey eyes blinked rapidly in the darkness under the bed.

"Get out here now and give the lady back her damn phone, Ishmael." He barked, the Hunter immediately darting out from under the bed and hurrying to hide behind Zoey. "Oh, don't you dare!"

"Too late Bill." Francis laughed. "He already knows who's gonna protect him."

"Zoey, get that phone will ya; it might be important," Jan called, Louis laughing as he watched Zoey attempt to wrestle the phone from Ishmael's grip. She had at least gotten it out of his mouth, but he was intent on keeping it.

"Jesus, what did they do to him at those labs? He's pretty keen on not letting you have that thing," Bill remarked, turning almost suspicious eyes to Jan. The woman took the time to pull out one of her own cigarettes, lighting it and shaking her head.

"He hates needles about as much as he hates being naked," she murmured, Bill raised an eyebrow and Francis made a face. "He wouldn't bathe on his own, I don't know WHY. He would whimper and carry on until I helped him, and then he wouldn't even take his clothes off to let me help. He's an odd duck."

"He's a freakin' Hunter," Francis offered, both Bill and Jan frowning in his direction. "What?"

"For the last time, Francis, Ishmael is different." Bill didn't go so far as to swat him, but Francis still flinched like he had. Bill's bark was as bad as his bite. "He's not just another one of those things. He was part of the team then and he's part of the team now."

"Yeah yeah," Francis muttered, looking over at Ishmael and Zoey, who had stopped wrestling for the phone seeing as Zoey had finally managed to get it away from him. Ishmael was now sulking, lying on his back on the floor in a manner that suggested he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "Doesn't change what he is though."

…

Jan accepted her somewhat damp phone back, offering a grimace and a 'thank you' to Louis, who had brought it to her. She wiped it off on her pants and flipped it open to check if there were any messages. Guilt was chewing at her again, mostly for not going back to see if Steve was alright, and her heart began pounding rapidly when the phone rang again as she opened her mailbox.

Answering it, she turned her back to the crowd, moving into the corner.

"Hello?"

"It's about time. Did the h-… did Ishmael steal your phone again?" Jeffries voice was irritated, but she had hardly spoken to the man when he wasn't irritated by one thing or another, so she ignored the tone.

"Yes, he did. But I've got it now, so what are you calling for?" Jan was aware of Bill's eyes on her as she spoke, understanding the man's caution and suspicion. She was the new girl, and she had mentioned unfinished business, she had a working phone and she was responsible for Ishmael having a mini freak out every time her phone rang.

"I'm afraid the news isn't as good as it was this morning. Your husband checked himself in about an hour ago to the lab, claiming he thought he was sick. I was wondering if you noticed any strange behavior as of late."

"No stranger than usual." Rubbing the back of her neck, Jan turned to look over at Bill, who didn't bother looking away, gazing at her through a haze of cigarette smoke. "He and I had a fight, I told him to go and get checked out because he wasn't looking too hot."

"Have you been back to your tent, outside the town walls?"

"Never managed to make it there, I met up with Ishmael's friends and we ended up talking in their tent." Jan turned away from Bill again, lowering her hand in an attempt to hide its shaking. "What happened?"

"Your husband tore it apart. I sincerely hope there wasn't anything important in there, and if there was, I apologize."

"Tore it apart?" She breathed, frowning deeply. "What do you mean, tore it apart?"

"Exactly what I said, it's been destroyed: shredded paper everywhere, the sides ripped, the furniture smashed and things strewn about all over. Quite literally torn apart."

"Well, all we had in there were Ishmael's reports and the things we were given when we got here. Nothing I'm emotionally attached to. How… how did he do such a thing?" She asked, no longer watching the volume of her voice.

She was aware that all of them were looking at her now, so she turned to face them again, shaking her head slowly.

"I'm afraid that's the bad news. As you were aware, your husband is not immune. We went over his tests and discovered something startling."

"Is he infected?"

"No. Not in the traditional sense of the word, at least." Jeffries took a breath, and Jan noticed that Francis and Zoey did as well. Bill was silent, Louis muttered a curse under his breath and Ishmael growled softly, crouching down again. "There's been a mutation."

"Mutation?" Jan repeated, shaking her head. "What kind-"

"Something has altered his blood, his DNA. He's mutating, but we're not sure into what. The infection combined with some outer influence is altering him in both body and mind. We've got him sedated, but we need you to come to the lab for tests."

"Me?"

"Yes, you Jan. We have a theory we want to test."

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

This is a chapter I actually had to rewrite two or three or more times before I found the way to get across what I wanted to get across. I promise there will be more romance in the near future for Ishmael and Zoey! As I mentioned in the last story, every 'movie' needs some love scenes or shower scenes or both!


	8. Scene 8: The World Against Us

"Need an escort?" Bill asked Jan as she closed the phone, looking shaken and tearful.

"N-no. No, I shouldn't bother you that way. I have to go now, I'm so sorry for all of this." Her voice was wispy and high pitched, and she pressed one hand to her mouth briefly before moving to the door.

"I insist. We're all survivors here, regardless of personal problems." Bill followed her as he spoke, and she turned to look at him with a thankful expression on her face. They exited the tent after saying their goodbyes, Francis looking at the other two.

They all exchanged the same look, Louis letting out a low whistle.

"The plot thickens," he remarked.

"I'm goin' back to sleep," Francis muttered, shoving Louis off his bed and stretching out again. Louis made a disgruntled noise and shook his head, glancing down at Zoey and Ishmael.

From the expression on Zoey's face, from the way she was looking at their infected friend, he could tell she was hoping and wishing and praying with all her might that it hadn't been Ishmael's fault that Jan's husband was sick. Judging from the marks on Jan's hands and arms, Ishmael still had a biting problem, but if he had been allowed to rejoin society, it meant he wasn't at risk of spreading the infection.

So what HAD happened?

The young man wished there was something he could say to quell Zoey's fears, but at the same time, there was a little part of him, a darker part that didn't want to say anything and wanted to keep letting her worry. If she worried, if she doubted and started to push Ishmael away then-

Shaking his head sharply to clear the thought from his mind, Louis sucked a breath in and rubbed his eyes.

"Hey, I'm going to get something to eat," he murmured with a smile. "Are you interested?"

"Not really that hungry, but thanks for offering. If you could bring us back some drinks, that would be great," Zoey replied, offering him a smile in return. Louis nodded and headed out of the tent with a wave.

As soon as he was out of sight of her, his shoulders slumped.

He felt like he had reached a new low. Pining after an eighteen year old girl, no matter how amazing she was, didn't happen to be something that he had put on his list of things to do before he died. Pining after an eighteen year old girl who was in love with a zombie and saw him like a brother was as good as a knife to the gut.

He wanted to be happy for them, he really did…

It was just hard not to hate Ishmael for being the one she fell for. The way the world worked, it wasn't supposed to be like the movies. The guy who didn't try wasn't supposed to get the girl while the guys who tried hardest were overlooked.

…

Ishmael wondered if it was strange, sitting here staring at one another without speaking. He knew humans relied on speaking as their main method of communication, and talking seemed to be what humans did best. Zoey seemed content to sit across from him on the floor and stare at him with a smile, neither of them moving, neither of them speaking, both of them seeming to be waiting for the human on the bed to start snoring.

Once he was asleep, it would take a lot to wake him.

_Mary had a lamb, his eyes black as coal,_

_If we play very quiet, my lamb_

_Mary never has to know…_

_Just once in my life_

_I think it'd be nice_

_Just to lose control, just once_

Ishmael blinked, wondering exactly where the thought had come from, the words, the tune. He took a deep breath in, seeing the look on her face had changed. Zoey tilted her head to the side and frowned at him, questioning him silently. He supposed he could label the look as "Is something the matter?"

He reached out and stroked his fingers down her cheek, letting out a soft noise, her hand moving to take his, then both of them fell still and silent once more.

His mind was racing as fast as his heart. Had he just remembered something? Something from before? Had he heard that song somewhere in his life before the infection?

The context of the lyrics was easy to understand, and part of him wanted to blame the instincts that kept prodding him, urging him to take what was rightfully his, right here and now no matter who might walk in or hear them.

Zoey was HIS female, HIS… No one else's!

"Ishmael?" The spoken of focused again on the human girl in front of him, now seeing the obvious concern in her face, a flicker of fear in her eyes. He took in a breath to clear his head, looking at where their hands had been joined.

She had pulled hers from his, and now his fist was clenched so tight the skin of his knuckles had turned white. His breath had also grown heavier, and he put a hand to his head with a groan.

If he didn't get this out of his system soon, Ishmael feared he would do something he regretted.

…

Zoey didn't want to be afraid of him, but for a moment, a crazed look had crossed his face and he had bared his teeth like an animal. Those silver grey eyes had turned even darker, his hand beginning to tighten around hers so badly she was forced to pull hers away.

What was happening to Ishmael?

Saying his name seemed to bring him to his senses, seemed to clear whatever it was that gripped him from his head for the time being.

Ishmael let out a groan of regret, putting his hand to his head, then he lowered it and looked at her intensely for a moment. He reached out, dragging his fingers through her hair, cupping her face and dragging one thumb across her lips, a shaking sigh escaping his throat as he leaned closer.

"Mine," he growled very clearly, Zoey's eyes widening.

"Yes, Ishmael. Yours," she whispered back. Was that what he was afraid of? Was that what he had been thinking?

Even infected, men were men and all of them had the same thoughts. She swore to herself that if Ishmael and the other men in her life started some stupid territorial battle over her, she'd stomp all over them.

She was no damsel in distress and she was no prize to be fought over. Her heart had already made its decision and there was no part of her that regretted it. Smoothing her hand over Ishmael's black hair and putting her hand on his cheek, Zoey forced their eyes to meet again, frowning.

"Yours, no one else's," she murmured, Ishmael rumbling deep in his chest. She hoped she was conveying to him that she didn't appreciate his behavior; without words, it was sometimes hard to get things across to him.

Now that she was pretty sure kisses were no longer forbidden, they tasted that much sweeter. As Ishmael leaned in and kissed her, the anger and frustration melted away in the explosion of lights behind her eyes, her breath escaping her as a soft sigh.

Despite his strange behavior, Zoey was so happy to have him back. Bill had claimed that she was looking for affirmation of life when they thought Ishmael was dead, and she became aware that her affirmation might be coming to her this very moment, regardless of who might be in the room.

There was none of the quiet desperation Ishmael had portrayed in the safe room, replaced by a burning need and a very clear intention, the Hunter seizing her shoulders in his hands and pushing her roughly to the ground on her back. He straddled her waist, a deep growl issuing forth from him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

Something in her screamed 'Stop!' while a different part urged her forward. Her head was spinning, her breath was short, her skin felt feverish… Ishmael was growling softly, a sound she could feel as well as hear.

She bucked her hips up into his, the feral groan that escaped his throat making a whimper escape hers; he ground his hips back down into hers with a sharp intake of breath.

Breaking the kiss, chest now heaving, Ishmael leaned down and bit the side of her neck gently, trailing his mouth over the sensitive skin as he travelled upwards, seizing her ear in his sharp teeth. Little gasps of delight escaped her, hands now gripping at the shirt he wore, her body squirming beneath his as her eyes fluttered closed.

Then his weight was suddenly gone, Zoey letting out a soft noise of confusion as she blinked her eyes open again, looking around.

Ishmael had disappeared from view, though a soft whine from behind her bed gave her a clue as to where he had gone, and she rolled to her knees with a frown.

"What the hell?" Feeling flushed and frustrated, Zoey got to her feet and moved to join him, shaking her head at him and giving him a questioning look. "What is it?"

Louis' voiced reached her from outside, the youngest male of their group discussing something with one of the other survivors as he approached the tent, and Zoey let out a small groan, hanging her head.

"Of course," she whispered. "I asked him to bring us drinks, why did I ask him to bring us drinks?" Ishmael didn't answer, tilting his head to the side and actually arching an eyebrow at her, a habit he must have picked up somewhere along the way.

This set her off giggling, Louis calling out to them as he pushed the tent flap back and entered.

"What's so funny? And why are you hiding behind the bed?"

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

Aaah, the world is against them, I swear.

Now, it's Q & A time!!! You ask the questions, I've got the answers.

To Nick, one of my non-logged-in reviewers!

Yes, it was indeed a reference to 28 Weeks Later, which I thought was an ABYSSMAL film in all honesty. The first one was so much better! I did like the idea of people being carriers, however.

To Ranyo

When is the next chapter coming out? This IS the next chapter, but if I had to answer the question for the one AFTER this one, I'd say… maybe today, maybe tomorrow, depending on how quickly I write it. I got over my terrible block and I'm back on track now.

To Ithilel

More on the theory and the mutation to be explained in the next chapter! I felt a little like I was focusing too much on the other characters and not enough on Ishmael and Zoey, but at the same time, I wanted to focus a little more on the points of view of the other survivors, as per Nick's request. I rather liked the bit from Francis' POV myself!

To Gordon-Freeman

Seems my thumb isn't going to be hindering my typing performance, though it does make it a little difficult/irritating to work at times. They can't fix it anymore than they already have!

Thanks again all for reading!


	9. Scene 9: One Giant Step Backwards

Jeffries was pacing the observation room above one of the operating labs when his assistant Selene slipped in to join him, her face grim.

"They've managed to remove one of the growths," he murmured to her as he took the report she had in her hand. "More have begun growing even as they've been operating. The mutation is beginning to accelerate alarmingly, and all these signs point to him becoming one of those smokers. How did it go with Jan?"

"She took it like a champ. The tests have been completed, but there is still no sign of the infection in her blood; I don't think she's the carrier," Selene replied in her soft, accented voice. She was one of the specialists sent overseas from England when the infection had first began to spread, and she had been a vital part of all the research at the lab. Jeffries relied on her heavily, not just for paperwork but for her brains and her sharp tongue. She kept him in line when his own thoughts became a little more morbid than the others appreciated.

"Then we're out of theories." Jeffries sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand, leaning against the desk behind him. "Test her blood against the other samples; see if we can provoke a reaction."

"I'll get the lab started on it right away." Before Selene left, she took a moment to wander to the window, one hand in the pocket of her lab coat. She watched the surgeons below as they worked, her expression becoming rather subdued, withdrawn, guarded.

"It's a step backwards," Jeffries remarked, Selene turning to him in surprise as though he had echoed her thoughts with words.

"We were doing so well when Ishmael Parker came to join us," She whispered. "We had come so close to a break through with his blood, then this happened. If we don't figure this out soon, they might take him away from us."

"Him who? Him?" Jeffries pointed out the window at Steve, heavily sedated on the operating table as the surgeons worked to remove the tumors that were obscuring half of his face. "Or Ishmael?"

Selene didn't answer him right away, moving closer to the window and pulling her hand from her pocket. She pressed both hands against the window, eyes widening, her voice registering a note of panic.

"Oh God… doctor, look!"

Jeffries straightened from where he leaned at the desk, hurrying to the window to see what she was pointing at.

Below, in the operating room, Steve was twitching madly on the table where the surgeons had him heavily sedated. His skin rippled, his limbs began to elongate right before their very eyes, and as his mouth dropped open, the window began to vibrate from the volume of the scream that was issuing forth from him. Since the observation room was soundproof, they couldn't actually hear it, but the surgeons down below had their hands over their ears, grimaces on their faces.

Muscles began to bulge along Steve's arms, his fingers began to elongate, his hands began to widen, and the surgeons didn't linger much longer, hurrying to leave the room. Selene and Jeffries looked at each other in panic, the doctor hurrying to pick up the rifle he was required to carry with him at all times.

"We need to kill that thing, now!" He shouted, turning to find Selene blocking his path with outstretched arms. "Before it kills us all!"

"You risk spreading the mutation to others. Spill his blood and this place will be irrevocably compromised!" Selene protested, trying to grab the gun Jeffries held. "Shoot it now and you doom us all!"

"We must think of self preservation, if we allow that thing to escape into the lab, all of our lives are forfeit!" Jeffries shouted, shoving her forcibly out of the way and hurrying to the window with rifle in hand.

He stopped short seconds later as he saw Steve was no longer lying on the operating table. The sedatives hadn't worked…

The thing was awake.

Selene pulled herself into a sitting position, having fallen between the desk and the wall when he shoved her. She opened her mouth to speak, whatever she had been trying to say slipping away as a startled squeak when the heavy operating table crashed through the window of the observation room.

Jeffries had no time to react, the table hitting him hard and driving him backwards towards the wall. It didn't stop there, breaking through the wall and crashing into the next room, Selene having the unfortunate opportunity to watch Jeffries head separate from his shoulders when he hit the wall. His body continued with the table, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming.

Curling into herself and shuffling backwards, she slid beneath the table in the corner, pressing one hand hard over her mouth as she listened to the inhuman scream of the creature Steve had become. The ground was shaking as it moved around below her, but when it went still, she hoped and prayed that the creature had left.

Seconds later, the light in the room darkened as a massive shape leapt almost gracefully through the broken observation window, slamming hard into the floor.

Selene fought the urge to shut her eyes, not wanting to see what Steve had turned into, but if she didn't look she wouldn't be able to see it coming for her.

He had long arms like a gorilla, though only one of them had muscles bulging from it the way a Tank did, while the other was still thicker and more deformed than a normal human arm. His shaggy blonde hair was now white, his eyes glowed red and his elongated fingers had become like knives. He carried himself, slightly hunched on backwards bending knees, his mouth twisting into a snarl as he shuffled forward towards what remained of Dr. Jeffries.

Selene watched him, awestricken, terrified, but he soon shoved the operating table out of the way, causing it to slide across the room and crash against the table she hid beneath. Her vision was now obscured, but the beast also couldn't see her from here.

"Ishmael." The thing groaned, panting for breath. "Must… find."

He began tearing through what was left of the wall to the next room, so she made good use of all the noise by taking out her phone and sending a hurried message to Jan.

She just hoped the other woman didn't receive it too late…

…

Jan didn't need the message to know something was wrong. She and Bill had made it halfway from the lab after her blood tests when they heard the scream. Long and drawn out, it sounded altogether too much like a Hunter.

"Jesus Christ, that ain't good," Bill murmured as he turned, taking Jan's arm and hurrying back in the direction of the lab. Jan was silent as they ran, her face twisting when the first of the sirens began to ring out, armed guards in full body armor beginning to run with them and soon overtaking them.

"Civilians must stay back!" The guard outside the lab cried at them as they approached, Bill making a disgusted noise. "I'm sorry sir, but this situation is out of control and we have to keep the public out."

"Son, we didn't get out of the city by runnin' and hidin'. We fought our way out better than most of the people here could claim," Bill grumbled, the guard giving him a sympathetic look.

"As much as we would appreciate your help, I've got my orders."

"My husband is in there!" Jan protested, pushing forward a little bit. "Please!"

"Ma'am, I'm very sorry, but access is restricted to military personnel only." The guard reached out and put his hand on her shoulder to keep her back. "You've got to go back to your tent with the rest of your loved ones and wait for it to be clear. There are casualties that need to be dealt with and this is no place for unarmed civilians!"

"Casualties?" Jan's eyes widened. "Who?"

"We received a very distressed call from his assistant, Selene. She was trapped in a room where the infected had already been and informed us that Dr. Jeffries is dead." The guard continued holding Jan back, not releasing her.

"They're trained not to relent, Jan," Bill murmured very softly to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Besides, it might be your husband doin' all that screaming in there."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she whispered back, looking over her shoulder at the lab as Bill drew her away. "Oh God, Dr. Jeffries is dead. We have to go back to the tent and find Ishmael."

"Why? What's the emergency?" Bill's guard was immediately up and Jan cursed softly, dragging her fingers through her shorn hair.

"He was the one in control of the program here keeping Ishmael from being sent to another lab as a guinea pig. He was the one fighting for Ishmael to be released back into society. Without him; they might try to take Ishmael away," she hissed.

"Over my dead body," Bill growled.

Zoey would go to pieces. She wouldn't be able to handle it after getting him back when they thought he was dead. If they took that hunter from her now, she would do something rash, something all of them would probably quickly regret.

"Let's go," he murmured, picking up the pace as best he could. He was tired from the run back to the lab, but the sense of urgency in him now gave his feet wings. Jan had no problems keeping up, though she continued to cast longing glances over her shoulder at the lab long after it was out of sight.

…

"Ishmael's hiding from you." Zoey offered Louis a brilliant grin, the young man not missing the fact that she was a little short of breath and rather disheveled looking compared to how she had been when he left. Her rosy cheeks and the way she avoided meeting his gaze only confirmed his suspicions, making his stomach squirm uncomfortably.

"Well, I brought him cookies so that we might play nice and be friends, if he wants them." Louis put on a brave smile and held out the bag of chocolate chip cookies he had managed to get his hands on, Zoey taking them with a soft 'thank you'.

"C'mon, Ishmael, Louis brought you cookies. And they look homemade-ish," she chirped, trying to coax Ishmael from his corner.

The sudden growl, deep and furious that escaped him startled them both, and Zoey got to her feet. She backed away a few steps, pressing one hand to her chest, looking over at Louis in alarm.

Ishmael continued to growl, hunching up tightly, his claws digging into the ground and leaving deep grooves. He crept out from behind the bed, staring off in a vaguely eastern direction, the growl becoming more like a snarl.

Seconds later, the sirens began blaring, and Louis rushed to his bedside table to get the pistol he kept stashed there.

"Holy shit. Whatever this is, Ishmael is FREAKING OUT." Zoey put her hand to her head and looked in panic at Louis again, still keeping her distance from the furious Hunter. If he had fur, it would be standing on end, and now his teeth were bared; body quivering in anticipation. He continued to release the same feral growls, his silver grey eyes carrying a wild glint to them that was very different from the one in his eyes before he and Zoey had kissed.

"Zoey, I don't want to alarm you, but… I don't think it's safe here right now." Louis kept his voice down and moved very, very slowly, not wanting to startle Ishmael into doing something he wasn't supposed to do.

"We can't leave him like this," Zoey said bluntly, refusing to move very far from the Hunter.

Ishmael let out a scream just as suddenly as he had begun growling, straightening and racing for the door.

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

Ooooh, suspense. Oooooooh, cliffhangers! And a renewed passion for writing this remarkable story that I'm so very much enjoying sharing with all of you!


	10. Scene 10: It's Coming

Zoey honestly didn't think she had seen Francis move so quickly before, she hadn't even realized he was awake, and though she knew him well enough to know he wasn't such a smartass with a big mouth in crisis situations, his reaction to Ishmael taking flight was unexpected.

He flew from the bed he had been sleeping on, his long legs carrying him faster than Ishmael's much shorter ones, launching himself through the air and tackled Ishmael to the ground.

The Hunter let out an indignant yelp, the biker quickly pinning him down with his sheer bulk. He was probably twice the size of Ishmael, and no matter how strong the Hunter was; Francis was enough to keep him from escaping.

"What're you waiting for?!" Francis shouted at Zoey, who hurried to crouch down in front of Ishmael. "Don't give the little asshole enough time to recover!"

"Ishmael! You've got to pull yourself together. Tell me what's wrong." Zoey tried to keep her voice calm, but the note of panic and the slightly higher pitch signified that she had failed in her attempt. Ishmael's eyes kept their wild look for a moment, but when she touched her fingers to the side of his face, he shuddered and blinked a few times, eyes widening in panic.

"Hhssss…rrrrreee," he groaned after a moment, Francis looking at Zoey as if to ask her if it was alright to let him up. Zoey shook her head ever so slightly, Francis nodded in return and remained where he was, content to do his part.

"Sorry?" Zoey murmured to Ishmael, turning his face up ever so slightly so their eyes met. "Are you sorry?"

Ishmael twitched his head in a semblance of a nod, flexing his claws a few times and attempting to look around. Zoey wondered briefly if the noise of the sirens hurt his ears, but the question of what had set those sirens off was more important at the moment.

"Alright Francis, let him up," she said, standing and stepping back. Francis got to his feet slowly, Ishmael remaining plastered to the ground for another long moment before scrambling into a crouched position. He looked up at Zoey, and then turned to face Francis with a submissive growl, crouched lower than she had ever seen him before.

"Yeah, I get it," Francis muttered after regarding him in silence, nudging him with one toe. "Sirens woke me up first. What the hell is goin' on?"

"Good question," Louis murmured in reply, looking towards the east where Ishmael had been fixated on. "Something spooked our friend here."

"Something spooked him bad," Zoey echoed, looking towards the tent flap when it flew open. Bill and Jan hurried inside; both of them breathing heavily, the old man frowned when Ishmael crawled across the ground to crouch in front of him.

"What happened?" Jan asked, moving to put her hand on Zoey's arm in a comforting gesture, chest still heaving. "What's wrong with him?"

"He freaked out before the sirens started goin' off," Louis answered, watching the silent exchange between Bill and Ishmael. The Hunter remained crouched in front of Bill for some time, and then the old man reached down and put a hand on his head, grunting softly.

Ishmael straightened a bit, moving to stand with Jan and Zoey, his posture a lot more relaxed but at the same time cautious and tense.

"Something happened at the lab," Jan explained, Zoey's eyes widening. "Dr. Jeffries is dead. We're not sure what's going on, but we have a feeling my husband might be involved. You have to know, there is a risk of someone coming to take Ishmael away."

"They can't blame him for this!" Zoey cried, Jan putting both hands on her shoulders and shaking her head.

"They know Ishmael is clean. The problem is, Ishmael is also still one of the infected. If they could possibly get their hands on an infected that's NOT contagious, they would lock him up in a lab and never let him leave, Zoey. Jeffries was keeping them from doing that and now that he's gone, there's no one to protest it," The older woman continued, Zoey letting out a noise of distress that made Ishmael growl.

"I'm not letting them take him! He's mine now!" The younger girl shouted, leaning down to wrap her arms protectively around Ishmael.

"We won't let them either," Bill murmured, elbowing Francis a little bit harder in the ribs than he needed to when the biker opened his mouth.

"He's part of our clan now; he can't be taken from us. He's learned so much from us already and we're living proof that he's perfectly harmless," Louis said, once again glancing east. The sirens hadn't stopped screaming yet, the uneasy feeling in his stomach only growing worse with every passing moment.

"The base might be compromised." Jan reached into her pocket, taking out her now buzzing phone. She flipped it open and said a quick hello, pressing her fingers to one ear to block out the noise surrounding them.

As she wandered a few feet away to carry on her conversation, the four survivors and Ishmael looked at one another in silence, shifting uneasily.

Jan flipped her phone closed and turned with tears in her eyes, pressing one hand to her mouth to muffle a sob.

"That was Selene." She said in a thick voice. "God damn it all… the thing that killed the doctor IS Steve, but not Steve anymore. It WAS Steve; now it's just… it's… Oh God, it's coming for Ishmael."

"What?!" Zoey and Francis cried together, Bill putting his hand to his eyes with a muttered "Oh hell."

"Shit. Shit shit shit!!" Louis spat, kicking his bedside table furiously. "We were supposed to be away from all of this!"

"No use complainin' now, son. We've gotta get Ishmael out of here before that thing comes to find him. It might take it awhile to figure out which direction to go in and while it's still trying to figure it out, I want us to disappear. We can ask to borrow one of the trucks…" Bill took out a cigarette and lit it quickly, puffing on it in a desperate manner before continuing. "I don't suppose they'll be too keen on keeping us now."

"Jan's coming with us," Zoey said immediately, Ishmael nodding and repeating Jan's name.

"I agree. The more the freakin' merrier," Francis grunted, moving to his bed to fish out the shotgun he had hidden beneath his mattress.

"I don't want to be a-"

"Damn it woman, you're not a burden!" Bill snapped, spinning to face her. She stared at him tearfully, eyes wide, and his expression softened a bit. "Now, accept our God damned gesture of good faith and get your ass in gear. We're suited up, armed, packed and headed out in fifteen."

The three other survivors hurried to fulfill his orders, Jan lagging behind a bit until Zoey dragged her along and helped her.

…

The armed team of guards had the door down in no time, rushing into the ruined operating room with their weapons ready; the leader gesturing for half of them to head up the stairs to find Selene.

The operation table had been forcibly ripped from the floor, the smashed window overhead proving it had also been thrown through the air. The fact that the door to the observation deck was still intact suggested the infected had leapt to the room above through the hole it had created, something that put many of the guards on edge.

Selene was brought downstairs, a little shaken up but not injured, one of the team immediately drawing her aside to question her.

Things seemed a little too quiet, a little too still. If this thing was built like a Tank, the ground should have been shaking furiously. They should have been able to hear it, but it had fallen silent some time before.

They only hoped it wasn't lying in wait to ambush them.

The team that hurried upstairs after Selene had been extracted were quick to locate the body of Dr. Jeffries, all the pieces of it that were scattered about the room, but before they could send the clean up team in, they had to contain the creature.

Moving through the demolished wall into the second observation deck, the armed guard was met with a rather strange and morbid sight.

In the middle of a pool of blood and slime, shivering, naked and dazed, Steve didn't register the fact that they were even standing there, their voices failing to reach him as well.

Whatever had happened to him… it wasn't happening now.

Judging the situation as currently safe, they hurried the clean-up team and a team of medics in to deal with the mess, one of the medics immediately crouching down in front of Steve while doing her best to avoid the mess.

"Mr. Hayner, can you hear me?" She asked, taking out her flashlight to shine it in his eyes. He flinched and turned his head away with a hiss, continuing to shiver wildly. "Mr. Hayner?"

"W-w-w-where am I?" He gasped in a breathless voice, high pitched and frantic. "W-w-what happened? What is t-th-this?" He held up one of his hands and stared in panic at the blood and slime that covered it. "What d-d-did you do to m-me?"

The medic and one of the guards nearby exchanged a glance, the medic slowly pulling out her radio.

"He's in shock, the memory lapse could be attributed to the infection," she murmured before pressing the button on her radio. "Get me Jan Hayner. Don't let her leave the camp, tell her she needs to come to the lab. Tell her… she needs to speak to her husband."

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

Looks like I've done it again. *cough*

More to come! Thanks again for all those who have left me reviews, favorited the story, added me to alerts and favorited me as an author! It's all very inspiring. *glee*


	11. Scene 11: Close Quarters

Bill was mad as hell, and anyone who looked at him whether they knew him or not could tell. He stood like a sentry near the door of the city hall, watching the proceedings without expression on his face, smoke from his cigarette curling towards the ceiling. One look from him, a look that dared the guard who took them there to protest his smoking, and they hadn't told him to put it out.

He had the team prepped and ready to go, explained to the leaders he was doing them a favor, then they called all six of them to the city hall to speak to them about urgent matters regarding Jan's husband.

Steve had apparently reverted back to normal in some miraculous turn of events, and while the mutation was still residing inside him, he had become stable enough for them to move him into an isolated ICU within the lab.

No one seemed to be talking about the late Dr. Jeffries, no one seemed to be discussing the fact that Steve was obviously a hazard to the entire place, and the worst part was that everyone was treating them with far too much respect and kindness for it to sit well with him.

He was no greenhorn, he knew there was something big in the works here and he and his team were at the center of it. Many eyes had turned to them as they trudged through the town, and many eyes in the room were fixated on the two youngest in their group, standing before the leader of the base holding hands like they never intended to separate from one another again.

They had been offered an actual house to sleep in, something that could be easily defended, something with real doors and windows and rooms that they could sleep in without having to share… something that could have guards posted outside to alert the higher ups of any comings and goings.

While Bill was all in favor of sleeping under a real roof, he was wary of this gift handed to them on a silver platter.

He exhaled slowly, heavily, a thick plume of smoke escaping him to join the rest of the smoke drifting along the ceiling above, and the guard at the door grimaced at him. It was his third cigarette, after all.

Francis moved to join him by the door, huffing out a soft sigh and scowling in the direction of the leader.

"This is bullshit, all of this. No one's sayin' anything about the lab," he muttered beneath his breath, the old man nodding slightly in reply. "Everythin's goin' to hell today."

"Maybe staying up all night to play games cursed us," Louis added as he moved to join them as well, watching from a distance as Zoey and Ishmael pulled Jan to one side to comfort her. The woman was still crying, but they supposed it was to be expected.

Her husband was some mad drooling monster that wanted to eat the infected kid she considered her son.

"Don't say stupid things like that, it had nothing to do with you two staying out all night. It had nothing to do with Ishmael, or any of us; there's something else going on that we're not seeing yet." Bill exhaled slowly again, his scowl deepening. "Something tells me the next few days ain't going to be any nicer."

"At least I get my own room now," Francis smirked, Louis rolling his eyes and Bill letting out a soft, non committal grunt. "What?"

"I guess focusing on the good is all we got right now," Bill remarked, moving to join the women and Ishmael after putting out his cigarette.

…

Ishmael felt a little dizzy and tired, a little confused, the recent string of events filling his head with a fog and too many questions to answer.

His females were with him, sitting close, and while Jan was crying, Zoey was surprisingly calm. Their hands were still clasped and her cool skin was soothing to him, her touch allowing him to focus on the here and now instead of turning inward to his twisted thoughts.

Twice already today, he had lost control. Hearing the screaming of the infected creature in the lab from so far away, almost like it was screaming right into his head, something inside him had snapped. When he had come to his senses, her touch bringing him there, he had found the larger male human on top of him, weight almost suffocating.

It was lucky he had been so quick. Ishmael didn't want to think of what he might have done if they hadn't stopped him. Chances were, he wouldn't have woken at all. He probably would have been shot and thrown outside the city walls.

After some time, one of the armed men who had been standing watch in the room escorted them to a building, a short exchange between the oldest human and the guard taking place before Zoey urged him inside.

There was more than enough room for them all here, but despite how nice it seemed, the oldest human didn't look pleased. In fact, Bill was quite the opposite, bumping Ishmael almost intentionally when they tried to get through the door at the same time then turning to fix him with an irritable stare.

When it came time to choose which rooms they would all be staying in, Ishmael followed Zoey into the one she had decided to sleep in, suddenly finding himself sprawled on his back on the floor when Bill grabbed his shirt in one hand and dragged him backwards. Rolling to his feet with a snarl, Ishmael glared fiercely up at the oldest of the humans with fury flashing in his eyes.

Bill barked a single word at him and while he didn't understand the word itself, he clearly understood the meaning.

Bill was telling him in essence to behave. Something told Ishmael the word the man had muttered hadn't been so nice, the sour look on Zoey's face as she moved to join them only confirming this.

As Ishmael crouched low to the floor, offering Bill a glare but a submissive stance at the same time, the two humans had an exchange that sounded rather less than happy.

At the end of it, after a bit of shouting and some intervention from Jan and the youngest male of the group, Ishmael watched the look on Bill's face soften slightly.

Jan put her arm around Bill's shoulders and led him away, Zoey and Louis speaking quietly to one another before he put his hand on her arm and also disappeared up the hallway.

That left Ishmael and Zoey effectively alone in the hall together, the two of them not lingering long before Zoey took Ishmael's and squeezed it briefly, disappearing into her room and closing the door behind her.

Ishmael blinked at the closed door, crouching outside it and letting out a soft whine.

Had he just been locked out? Had his female shut him out of her room on purpose? Was it something Bill had said or done?

His whine became a persistent growl that stopped when Francis wandered up to him and hit him on the head with what looked like a rolled up newspaper.

Outside, the sun was starting to set…

…

Zoey threw her window open and sucked in a deep breath of air, closing her stinging blue eyes and letting out a noise of frustration. She felt like she was still back at home, her father telling her that the hoodlum she brought home was up to no good and after one thing and one thing only and that he wasn't allowed in the house… eventually he wasn't allowed to see her again, either.

Escaping from that hostile environment had been one of the most liberating events of her life… Here, though, there was nowhere to escape and the air was getting stifling.

This wasn't how she had envisioned her reunion with Ishmael.

The day had been filled with problems, one thing after another. Whatever director was in charge of the film that was her life, could they just give her a break already? After all, even the main character of Dawn of the Dead had gotten a moment to get to know her new love interest better, hadn't she?

Then there was the issue with the other boys. Where she thought she would get a nice happy reunion with everyone giving their blessing to her and Ishmael, she instead got awkward conversations and cold, stony indifference.

Was her decision REALLY that hard on them? And if they had wanted something from her, couldn't they have spoken up sooner? It wasn't like they had any shortage of time to do so.

"I hate being a teenager," she muttered, resting her elbows on the window frame and sighing heavily.

As the sun sunk lower in the sky, she decided to just go to sleep, forgoing dinner altogether for a chance at some peace and quiet and time to think. If they were lucky, tomorrow would be a day of rest from the chaos that today had brought, and wounds would have healed over enough that she wouldn't feel this need to escape.

Even though she had made the decision to sleep in the first place, how fast she got there surprised her. When she woke up to a soft noise somewhere in her room, a noise out of place, Zoey heard that the entire house was silent and still, seeing the moon creeping high in the clear sky outside her open window.

Sitting up very slowly, she looked around the dark room, heart beating fast, attempting to locate the source of the noise. Perhaps something had gotten in through the window.

She clapped a hand quickly over her mouth to stifle the scream that attempted to escape her when a dark shape suddenly leapt onto the end of her bed, her heart now hammering so hard she felt faint. When a hand, placed in the center of her chest, eased her gently backwards and a finger touched the place where her lips hid behind her hand, she opened her eyes again.

"Ishmael?" She whispered as she pulled her hand away from her mouth. She glanced over at her window, then up at him, then at the still firmly closed door across the room.

Something sure came in through her window alright. Ishmael didn't know how to open doors, so he must have gotten outside and scaled the wall beside her window to get in without anyone knowing.

Bill was going to murder her in her sleep for this.

The moonlight made his luminescent eyes glow ever brighter and she could see the smile that was on his face… the half-crazed, feral look he had carried before was now gone. It had been replaced with a rather smug look that clearly said…

"Nothing can stop us this time."

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

Hehe, I think you all know what's coming, yes? I continue to torture you with cliffhangers, though this is one that's not so bad, in my opinion. Or worse, I suppose, if you look at it that way.

No questions really to answer that I didn't answer in replying to your reviews! I DO, however, have more songs to share!

They're Changing/Mutation Playlist Take 2

Harmony - From the Full Metal Alchemist soundtrack

World With Me - From Phantasy Star Online Episode 2 (very pretty love song, I recommend it to anyone who might be interested! )

Can't Take it In - Imogen Heap, song from the Chronicles of Narnia soundtrack

If You Could Only See - Tonic (this is Ishmael's unofficial theme song.)

Inside Us All - Creed

I Hate Everything About You - Three Day's Grace

Bumblebee - Transformers the Movie soundtrack

Love Song - Hanson (this is the one Zoey was listening to in the end of They're Changing)

For the Reunion - Final Fantasy VII Advent Children soundtrack

The Howling - Within Temptation

Between - Vienna Teng (AMAZING ARTIST, AMAZING SONG)

Only a Plank Between One and Perdition - Final Fantasy VIII soundtrack


	12. Scene 12: The Growing Wave

"You don't have to stand watch anymore, y'know?" Bill looked round, startled by the soft voice from the doorway of the kitchen, his steel grey eyes falling on a rather sleepy looking Jan. Mouth twisting ever so slightly, he turned back to his coffee and cigarettes, looking back down at his game of solitaire.

"Too much of a habit now to give it up. Why don't you join me?" He murmured, hearing her footsteps shuffle across the kitchen floor and watching her pull out the chair next to him to sit down. "Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep despite being dead tired from all that crying and running," she shrugged, idly reaching out to put one card on top of another. Bill blinked a few times.

He had missed that move.

"How are you doing?" He asked, looking at her more carefully now. She had dark circles around her eyes, but the lingering sadness and regret were gone from her face, as well as the irritation she had shown him earlier during his slight altercation with Zoey in the hallway.

"Better," Jan murmured in reply, meeting his gaze briefly. "Y'know… I almost felt guilty about this, almost felt like I should somehow apologize to everyone effected by this, but… then I reminded myself that it's not my fault. Things were… Steve and I we weren't doing well. Things were falling apart before all of this began."

"All of this being the whole damn apocalypse, or all of this being the shit that hit the fan when we got to base?" Bill offered her a gentle smile which she returned with only a hint of sadness.

"All of this being the whole damn apocalypse," she confirmed, taking in a breath. "He's much younger than I am, and while he was a responsible man and incredibly handsome when I met him, something in him changed over the past few years. Maybe he's aging a little too quickly… he's miserly and doesn't know how to have adventure. He's intolerant of others and thinks mostly of himself and focuses on material things." Jan paused, her cheeks coloring. "Oh God, I'm sorry Bill, you probably don't care about any of this."

"If I didn't care, I'd tell you to stop touching my cards and get the hell out of the kitchen," Bill chuckled, standing to get her a cup of coffee and urging her onwards. "Everyone gets their turn on Bill's couch."

"Thanks so much." She accepted the cup of coffee and cleared her throat. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… this is sort of the last straw with us. He refused to believe that he was infected when he came back to the tent last night. I could tell when I looked at him and he refused to believe it. Then he worried that they would kill him. We got into quite the screaming match while poor Ishmael sat there going out of his head and growling like crazy because he could tell Steve was infected too."

Jan saw the way Bill's face darkened slightly when she mentioned the hunter's name, a smirk being hidden behind her coffee cup as she took a sip.

"Holy hell, that's strong."

"Need it to be when you're staying up on first watch."

"Can I ask you something… personal?"

"What, am I on the couch now?" Bill looked at her with an eyebrow raised and she laughed, perhaps a little too loudly. "Sure, go right ahead."

"Why do you hate Ishmael so much?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard and he spent a moment scratching at his beard and making soft, thoughtful noises.

"I don't hate him," he said at last, taking a drink of his coffee. "Not so much. I guess… at first I was jealous of the little bastard. He comes into the picture and Zoey acts like its Christmas. We busted our asses to save him. At first I was completely against it, but then I saw the way he made her face glow." He faded off a bit, staring down at his cup with a hint of sadness in his face.

"You have feelings for her?" Jan murmured, Bill giving her another look.

"That's a different question."

Jan shrugged. "Same context, I suppose."

"Whatever you say." Bill smirked and continued. "I had feelings for her. Then I reminded myself that I'm an old man and she's a very young woman. When we got to this place and I realized we weren't the last ones standing, I felt a little bit better about the world in general. Those feelings I had for her faded… and while I'm still baffled that she chose an infected over any of us, I hope things work out the way she hopes they will."

"Then why the fighting earlier?"

This question made the old man bristle, but instead of snapping, he took a deep breath and another drink of coffee.

"I'm worried he's going to break her heart. I suppose I'm reacting a lot more like a father now than anything. And under different social circumstances, that would be creepy as hell, but this place ain't the same as it used to be."

"Fair enough." Jan sat back in her chair with a slight smirk, letting out a soft sigh of her own. They sat in silence for a time, Bill still playing his game while Jan watched, then the woman made a thoughtful noise. "Shuffle those cards, Sir William. I wanna play a game with you."

"Sure. Whatever floats your boat, lady."

…

If the darkness in him permitted it, Ishmael was going to take as much time as he liked with this. He wasn't going to rush; he was going to savor it as smugly as he damn well pleased.

No doors being shut in his face.

No people treating him like an animal.

No threatening words or intense glares…

It was just him and Zoey now, and there was nothing between them but fabric.

If the darkness in him permitted, he was going to be as quiet as possible, too. Something in Ishmael made him fairly sure this wasn't the first time… something about his hands knowing exactly what to do.

Fabric was cheap, easy to replace. Fabric parted beneath his claw as he trailed one finger down the center of her chest lightly, careful not to come in contact with her skin. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, an after effect of him startling her as much as it was the things she must have been feeling.

Her skin was so pale under the light of the moon, a shiver running down his spine as he parted the two halves of the nightgown she had been wearing to bare it.

The fabric was gone now, and now there really was nothing to hinder them.

Lips, tongue and teeth started the fires burning ever brighter, moving over her skin with ease, and every gasp that escaped her, every whispered word and every soft whimper just made it harder and harder for him to keep control.

Ishmael fought that darkness back and continued his careful exploration, hands moving into the mix. Every curve, every contour, every delicate bone exposed by the hard life she had been living for those brief weeks before they met, every scar and cut, all of them were so terribly beautiful.

Beautiful, just like she was.

Another shudder gripped his body and he uttered a single, low growl, pinning her hands to the bed as she tried to move them.

He may not have been able to establish dominance over the males, but this was his female, and she belonged to him.

His and no one else's.

Ishmael could hardly hold on now, could hardly take it anymore. His body was ready…

Now hers was too.

The time had come to take what rightfully belonged to him…

…

Zoey always thought she would be more frightened than this. She always thought she would cry, or tremble with fear.

She thought her partner would be just as scared as she was about it, just as new to the whole thing.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it happening like this.

Fast and hard and furious, perhaps, but never agonizingly sure and gentle and slow like it was happening now. Ishmael knew just what he wanted and he was taking his damn time in getting it. When he pinned her hands to the bed…

She wasn't sure why, but it made waiting that much worse. She was his mate, and his actions clearly showed that they would do this when HE was good and ready to. For the love of God, she hoped he was ready soon.

Zoey felt like she was going to burst.

_Can we play the game your way?_

_Can I really lose control?_

_Just once in my life_

_I think it'd be nice_

_Just to lose control, just once_

_With all the pretty flowers in the dust…_

Ishmael pushed both her arms above her head, clasping her wrists with one hand as the other disappeared into the darkness between them. His weight was comfortable as he settled against her, another soft growl escaping his throat.

Then Zoey's entire world became an explosion of sensation she couldn't describe; pain and pleasure mingling at first.

It was all she could do to keep from crying out. She turned her head to the side and pressed her mouth against her arm to stifle any sounds that escaped her, not trusting how thin the walls were. If anyone should hear them now…

But then Ishmael's rhythm began, their breathing falling in time, and the world slipped away on a growing white hot wave.

…


	13. Scene 13: Chains

Selene stared at the inspectors with a mix of disgust and worry on her face, listening to their conversations over their clipboards and waiting for them to proceed into the deepest lab that had belonged to the late Dr. Jeffries.

As soon as they had heard what happened, they had come. A quick helicopter ride, and then they were swarming all over the place in search of anything they could take back to their bigger, safer labs with them.

She hated men like this.

The petite woman backed further into the wall and lifted her chin, listening as the topic turned to the infected that were being kept in the lab. Along with Steve, who was now considered the top priority when it came to research and experiments, there was an extraordinarily intelligent giant of an infected the maintenance crew had decided to name Castiel, a smoker they had managed to sedate and transport without it dying or blowing up on the trip and several common infected that showed a little bit of common sense.

The witch that had also been in their possession had been terminated after she managed to trick one of the guards into opening the door and proceeded to tear apart every living thing she could get her hands on before someone put a bullet through her head.

All of these, along with Steve would be taken. From the way they were speaking, Selene believed these men realized that they wouldn't be able to get their hands on the last of their 'special' infected, silently praying that no one would be stupid enough to come up with an excuse.

"Ms. Edwards, please come with us; I believe you have all of the security codes for the lab?" One of the inspectors said, drawing her from her thoughts. Selene nodded politely and stood away from the wall, moving with them to the lowest lab.

"There are a few ground rules, please hear me out," she said sternly as they walked. "Do not taunt them, do not touch the enclosures, please do not scream and for the love of God, don't go near Cas' pen."

"Cas?" The inspector murmured in reply. "You felt the need to name one of them? Why in God's name would you have named it?"

"They felt something as intelligent as this particular infected deserved a name. Needless to say, he's a dangerous individual and even while in his docile state must be treated with the utmost caution. As for the rest of the infected that are down there, they are quite aware of what is going on." Selene paused outside the door, peering into the darkened lab through the small window, having to rise up on her tip-toes just to see.

There were dark shapes moving vaguely in their enforced enclosures, and she knew as soon as she turned the lights on, the uproar would begin.

Part of her almost felt bad for Steve, who was closest to the door as they moved inside. He was perhaps the most aware out of all of them, peering at her with loathing in his eyes. His enclosure was probably the most secure of all, and the hazard symbols plastered everywhere on his pen made sure the inspectors gave him wide berth.

Across the room, Cas was chained in a much, MUCH larger pen, eyes closed and longish brown hair hanging in his face. There was a deep scar across his chest that shifted as he breathed, deep even breathing that signified sleep.

Somewhere in the lab, the smoker howled his displeasure, causing the lesser infected to work themselves into a frenzy. There were approximately eleven of them in total, and the din caused by them throwing themselves at the glass doors of their enclosures and beating against them was deafening.

"As you can see, things here are quite secure!" Selene shouted above the noise. The chief inspector moved to join her, peering at Steve with mixed emotions on his face.

"This is your newest?!" He shouted back, Selene offering him a nod. He held up one finger and pulled a small headset out of his jacket, handing it to her. It was much like the ones the other inspectors were wearing, and with it, she was able to hear their voices more clearly over the racket being made by the mini-horde.

"Remarkable," One of the other inspectors murmured. "He looks human."

"He's not human. He might have been once, but that thing that killed Jeffries was not." Selene murmured softly, the chief inspector making a note on his clip board.

"I think at this point in time, it's appropriate to assume the Jekyll and Hyde strain hasn't left his body," he said, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"He could turn again at any time. We have him in the same security we have Cas. If Cas can't punch through that door, then Steve can't… we're hoping," Selene replied, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

"Right; how soon can they all be prepped for transport?"

Even as the inspector asked the question, Steve stood from where he had been crouching on the ground, his chest heaving. He looked at the people outside his cell with agony written all over his features, and then his own screaming joined the noise being made by the rest of the infected.

The inspectors and Selene all backed away quite quickly, watching with growing horror as Steve began to change again.

This time, half of his body swelled rapidly, leaving the other half almost completely human, and he threw himself against the glass with a howl of fury. Luckily, as Selene had explained, the glass held. Another scream escaped Steve's throat as boils began to swell all over his skin, his body beginning to swell with them.

He threw himself against the glass again, and then fell to the floor with a shriek of pain, arching his back and beating on the concrete with his massive, mutated fist. The screaming became higher pitched, more wild, then all at once, the boils on his body exploded.

Green pus and bile splashed over the glass in his enclosure, Steve's screams subsiding into something more human once again before dying away into whimpers. It took some time for the glass to clear enough for them to actually see what was going on inside, the sound of sirens from above them making them all jump.

"What's going on?" The chief inspector asked, wide eyed.

"An attack, we should get out of here." Selene hurried to the door and swiped her security card, allowing the inspectors to go first before looking over her shoulder at the rest of the lab. The smoker was coughing and hacking across the room, the infected had renewed their efforts to escape, driven mad by the scent of the bile. Castiel was still slumbering in his own enclosure, and Steve was now lying naked on the ground, trembling, his skin covered in the same blood and slime as it was when they found him, reverted to normal in the operating room. The bile mingled with everything else, painting him filthy, gory colors.

She would have to come back to him later… Right now she needed to make sure everyone else was secure, and she needed to make a phone call to Jan.

…

Zoey had been sleeping rather soundly, a blissful smile on her face when she was jerked awake by all the blankets on her bed being yanked off at once. Since she was still naked, she let out a shout of protest, trying to grab one of the fleeing blankets to cover herself up.

In her surprise, she almost missed the sound of the sirens screaming, Francis' heavy boots moving up the hallway and Ishmael's frightened growling from beneath the pile of blankets on the floor.

Realizing the hunter was trapped, Zoey spoke softly to him to get him to calm down, eventually untangling him and nearly leaping out of her skin when there was a knock on the door.

Ishmael screamed his protest at the person on the other side, Louis' voice holding a tone of warning as it came through the door.

"What are you doing in there? Damn it, Ishmael, you were told to stay out of there!"

"D-don't come in!" Zoey called, hurriedly searching for something to put on. When she was at least halfway decent, she grabbed Ishmael's hand and pulled him with her from the room, both of them hurrying to the kitchen to join the others.

Jan was already on the phone with Selene, and one of the guards from outside had come in to give a report to Bill.

"What's happening?" Zoey asked Louis as she moved to join him across the kitchen from the guard and Bill.

"The infected showed up out of nowhere and are swarming at the barricades outside. Something's attracting them from all over, and there was more screaming up at the lab." Louis had a look that at first looked very stern, but his expression softened as he spoke; Zoey chewed on her bottom lip.

"Selene says the mutation changed again," Jan called, one finger plugging her ear that the phone wasn't held to. "Steve's turned back, but… he apparently exploded. That's why the infected are coming."

"Eww," Zoey remarked, mouth twisting. Louis also made a face, seating himself in a kitchen chair while the others waited to hear more.

Ishmael was pacing about the kitchen, peering out windows and waiting at doors, his obvious agitation putting Francis on his guard. The bigger male eyed him suspiciously, but Ishmael didn't seem interested in trying to escape or attack. In fact, it seemed a little more like he was attempting to protect them.

Still, not wanting to take chances, Francis didn't relinquish his hold on his beloved shotgun.

Jan hung up her phone and moved to speak quietly to Bill, Zoey regarding everyone in the room with an expectant air. It was about time they got some answers, or were given some proper weapons so they could help fight at the barricades, wasn't it?

…

_The chains were strong, the chains could hold him. The chains were strong; the chains could hold his weight. Use the chains, pull himself up, break free, break the humans. Break the living, break the weak ones, break everything in his way._

_Fight for control, fight for the rage, fight to lose these chains… _

_Groggy, tired, but not weak. Use the chains._

_Yes, use the chains, a little higher now, then the ground from above will break and the rage will come and the chains broken and the fight for control will begin. The more you fight the more control you have._

_Can't take the screaming, use the chains. Can't take the smell, it burns. Use the chains. _

_Almost there now… almost there… _

_Legs aren't so strong, but legs will work. Break the ground from above, break it and run, break it and kill! More rage, almost there now. _

Then with a bellow that shook the walls of the lab, Castiel broke through what little there was left of the ceiling in his cell, swinging up and landing on his feet in the room above with more grace than his size should allow. The chains snapped easily…

But with so little rage and control left in him, he needed to find a closer target. He knew the humans would have fled the lab after the human man had changed, and they were too far away from him to get to just yet.

The human that had changed, however… there was a good target. Confused and scared and utterly helpless, he would make a perfect target.

The smell of the bile was what allowed him to find the man easily, heavy fists smashing through the floor, another bellow escaping him. Cas didn't care who he alerted…

_Let them know. Let them know death is coming for them._

…

Author's Note!!

Little trip into the mind of a Tank! Cas is just a Tank, that's all, though he is a bit smarter than some of them. He knows how to exploit weaknesses of things and he can probably lay traps and trick people and what have you, but he is just a Tank.


	14. Scene 14: Conspiracies

"They've begun evacuations," the guard spoke as soon as he returned to them, having stepped outside to speak to one of his superiors. "We need to get all of you out of here, immediately. Any arguments?"

"Evacuations?" Francis growled, glancing over at Bill. "The hell?"

"Something happened, didn't it? At the lab, something's gone wrong," Bill replied, voice soft, Francis' face taking on the familiar look of paranoia that had plagued him during their fight in the city. "Tell me what happened."

"There's been a security breach. Several of the infected they had inside the base have escaped and are now running loose. One of them…" The guard paused, glancing around before leaning in closer. "One of them is pretty big."

"You guys have a freaking TANK in that lab?!" Zoey cried, scowling furiously. "How the hell did you manage to get it in there?!"

"Rhinoceros tranquilizer darts." The guard confirmed, glancing around once more. "Now, come on. They've ordered the six of you on the first plane out."

"Wait." Bill's tone was cautious, and while the guard didn't stop, the rest of them recognized an unofficial order and did what they were told. "Something's not right about this."

"We have rampaging infected inside a safe zone; of COURSE something's not right," The guard protested, looking back over his shoulder and frowning. "We'll use force if necessary."

"They're not trying to get us to safety," Bill addressed the others without actually looking at them. "They're trying to get Ishmael."

The guard's expression flickered with annoyance and surprise, and then he glanced at the door once more, lifting his gun.

"I don't think I need to tell you the rest of you are expendable, Mr. Overbeck," he murmured, Bill smirked.

"And I don't need eyes, really, to tell you ain't no soldier, kid. The way you hold that gun, your nervous glances… You're from the lab, aren't you?" The old man asked, the guard's mouth twisting ever so slightly.

"They discharged me when Jeffries died, but I'm not going to let the doctor's work die with him. There's too much at stake here, and with the lab being torn up, we have a duty to society to preserve all we can of their hope for a future without the infection."

"Jeffries was working to keep Ishmael safe." Jan's voice was quiet, but her face was murderous.

"Jeffries was working to keep Ishmael CLOSE. He didn't want him to fall into the wrong hands; he wanted to keep him here, to himself. There would be a lot to be given if he managed to find the cure before any of the other scientists. Ishmael is different, even more different than those infected we had at the lab. But to keep the others occupied and away from Ishmael, we had to create something that would hold their attention and make them panic." The guard's trembling hands made his gun barrel jump a bit, his voice becoming more strained as he spoke. "The radioactive isotopes combined with the DNA from all the specimens we had gathered… We didn't expect such a reaction. We didn't expect it to take so damn long to set in, either."

"Wait a second," Louis breathed, eyes widening. "You're talking about-"

"Steve," Jan finished for him, Bill holding out a hand to keep her back.

"He was the perfect candidate. He was frequently at the lab with you and Ishmael, and he wasn't immune. We used that to our advantage and ended up with the perfect thing to keep those scientists from interfering with our work. But when Jeffries was killed by our creation, things got sticky. The authorities honed in on us immediately, and we had to act fast while they were trying to get to the bottom of things." The guard swallowed a few times, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"Does Selene have anything to do with this?" Bill asked sternly, the guard shaking his head.

"She never caught on, too desperate to stay on Jeffries' good side. She thought everything we were doing was for the greater good and never suspected we had a hand in the mutation." The guard grimaced ever so slightly. "She's an innocent bystander."

"An innocent bystander that is currently dealing with the mess that YOU made," Jan snarled. "I have it in my head to call her right now and tell her all that you've told me."

"Except that he would shoot you before you could dial the phone, Jan." Bill scowled at her, and then turned his attention back to the guard. "You do realize that kid will do whatever I tell him? I'm sure he'd be too quick for an amateur like yourself to hit if I told him to take you."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Overbeck?" The guard murmured, a flicker of fear in his face; Bill could tell part of him knew he wasn't bluffing.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep these people safe. They're my family, as sure as if they carried my own blood in their veins," he replied, the guard glancing around the assembled group and swallowing nervously again.

"If that thing attacks me, different or no, they'll kill him. They'll kill him and you'll have destroyed any hope any of us have for this nightmare to end." The guard trained his gun on Bill, whose expression remained the same. "Is that something you're ready to live with?"

"They can't kill him unless they go through us first," Francis said matter-of-factly, his shotgun aiming for the lone guard and a smug smile on his face. "And somehow, I don't think they're keen to try."

"They wouldn't need to go for all of you. A group is only as strong as its weakest link. All they would need to do is get their hands on her." The guard gestured his gun at Zoey, whose eyes widened. "And now that Ishmael's had his way with her, I'm sure he'd do anything to save her."

There was no hint of surprise on Bill's face, though Francis and Louis both looked shocked and goggled at her for a moment before the guard continued. Ishmael was growling, crouched low next to Zoey's leg, and his silver grey eyes never left the guard.

"You're all going to come along quietly, while everyone else is running around like crazy people. We're going to take you somewhere we can continue our research away from prying eyes. If you don't comply, we're going to be forced to take drastic measures."

The group looked at one another, then Louis brought out his pistol to join Francis' shotgun and Jan grabbed the rifle Bill had with him on the table, tossing it to the old man. Ishmael let out another warning growl, brandishing his claws in a menacing fashion. Zoey had one hand on the hunter's shoulder, her touch the only thing keeping him from pouncing.

The guard looked at them with wide eyes, panic written all over his features, and he took a slow step backwards.

"If you move any closer to that door, I'm gonna be the first one to shoot you," Louis remarked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"They're never going to let you get away with this!" The guard shouted, Bill taking the time to light his cigarette with one hand, the other still holding his rifle.

"Son, you're impersonating a soldier. You do realize that's a crime, right? You're also threatening us with bodily harm unless we do what you say. Another crime, if I'm not mistaken. We're simply defending ourselves, and that's what we'll tell the man when he comes for us." Bill smiled coldly as he spoke, smoke curling lazily around his head. "Francis."

The shotgun went off before the guard could do anything more than open his mouth to protest, and even with protective body armor, it must have hurt to be hit with it at this range. The guard went down with a scream, the two that were outside the door rushing in to see what was going on. Zoey hurriedly whispered to Ishmael to be calm, the hunter raising an eyebrow at her but doing as requested. He sat back on his haunches and regarded the guards with a guarded expression.

"What the hell?!" One of them shouted. "This guy's not one of ours."

"He was threatening to kill us and may be involved in a conspiracy at the lab. Are there any evacuations scheduled for today?" Jan pushed past Bill to join the guards, who exchanged a glance.

"No evacuations, this is a safe zone. Even with the commotion at the lab, we've received word that they've got it under control," One of them replied in a confused voice. "Who was this guy?"

"He worked for Jeffries," Bill cut in. "And that dead bastard is the cause of all the commotion."

…

Selene turned to stare down the hallway in shock as one of the walls exploded outwards from the force of something hitting it. Through the dust from the rubble, she saw a huge, hulking shape rise up, the bellow that reverberated off the walls making her cover her ears with a cry.

So, the Tank knew how to feign sleep as well.

Cas moved to leap back through the hole in the wall, another massive fist connecting with his disproportionately small head and sending him flying backwards again. Steve, transformed into the monster she had first seen him become, crawled from the hole with a low growl, his glowing red eyes trained on Cas.

The two giants leapt at one another in the ruined hallway, their grunts and cries enough to cause Selene to flee. She had been standing, frozen with fear at first, but realizing how close she was to being trampled and killed while they grappled woke her up quickly enough to escape.

This was really, REALLY bad.

As she ran, she heard a choking cry behind her, heart skipping when something wrapped around her ankle and yanked her feet out from underneath her. Her chin hit the floor as she fell forward, and no amount of grabbing for a handhold could stop her sliding across the cold floor as the smoker from the lab dragged her.

Screaming as loudly as she could, she managed to grip a doorframe as she passed it, the strain on her arms more painful than anything she had ever felt before.

The smoker gave an angry cough, its shuffling footsteps coming closer now but no slack being given as he did.

Screaming again, Selene closed her eyes tightly, waiting to feel the death surely coming.

Only it didn't come. Instead, there was a shout and a loud bang, the smoker's grip releasing as it gave a gasping yelp, putrid smoke suddenly filling the hallway. Selene lay dazed for a moment, someone grasping her arms and hauling her to her feet.

"Dr. Edwards!" A voice shouted, strangely muffled in the smoke. "We've gotta get out of here! C'mon, it's not safe!"

"You don't have to tell me twice!" She cried in reply, hurrying with the armed soldier up the hallway once more.

"What were you doing down there?" He asked her, frowning down at her once they cleared the smoke. He was one of their younger recruits, one of the ones who had never really approved of keeping infected in captivity in the first place.

"I was with the inspectors, but wasn't fast enough to get out before the fighting began," she explained, the soldier making a bit of a face.

"This doesn't make our lab look very good. We've gotta get moving, quick!"

…

Down below, the two giants continued fighting, Steve clearly having the upper hand as he was a little bigger and seemingly much stronger than Castiel.

Panting for breath, covered in lacerations and bruises, Cas circled Steve in the ruined hall, the mutant pausing only a moment before gathering his bulk on his much stronger legs and launching himself through the air.

Cas pulled back his fist to punch Steve mid-leap, but the mutant caught him off guard by shoving his huge claws through Cas' shoulder and driving him backwards into what was left of the wall. Howling in agony, Cas proceeded to punch Steve a few times in the face, the mutant snarling furiously.

His claws were stuck, too, and if Cas kept pummeling him, he was going to lose control.

Letting out a dull roar, Steve opened his mouth, his tongue shooting out to wrap around Cas' neck. The Tank stared up at him in shock, fist halfway pulled back to strike, and Steve used this as his chance to dislodge himself. He wrenched his claws free, and then seized Cas' shoulders in his massive hands, retracting his tongue and beginning to swing the tank around in circles. Building up momentum, Steve finally released the other giant, sending him through two more walls.

Cas fell limply to the ground, groaning, but before Steve could leap to finish him off, he heard a bang and felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, turning to see what the source of it was.

There were people in the hallway behind him, people in black clothing with guns. His vision was beginning to blur…

As he tried to run forward to attack them, he stumbled and fell into the rubble on the floor, eyes growing too heavy to keep open anymore.

With one last groan, Steve closed his eyes to sleep. He heard another sharp bang and heard Cas yelp in the distance just before blackness claimed him, knowing their fight wasn't over and vowing to finish it when he woke up again.

The men that stood over Steve leapt back in surprise when the mutant's body began to bubble and dissolve, washing the floor of the hallway with blood and slime. When it stopped, Steve's very human, very naked body lay in the middle of the hallway, the dart they had fired at him laying on the floor beside him.

"I guess this is why they call it the Jekyll and Hyde strain," one of the men remarked, two others moving forward to take Steve's arms and haul him away for safe keeping.

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

Thanks so much to BlackRaptor93 for creating and naming Cas for me. He mentioned wanting to see a Tank fight Steve, so he created Cas! ^.^ I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

More to come soon, I hope.


	15. Scene 15: Mission: Impossible

It seemed fitting that the rain was falling so hard that night, when there was a knock on the door of the house. The house was quiet, the tenants were sleeping with the exception of Bill and Jan, seated once again at the kitchen table to waste away the hours playing games. There was also the possible exception of Zoey and Ishmael, but Bill was sure the late hour found them both trapped in exhausted slumber themselves.

Since the truth about the night before came out, there was no stopping them. There were no more warnings, no more whispered conversations in the hall… there was no way to keep them apart now. Bill was just glad the hunter had managed to restrain the darker side of him and refrain from tearing the girl's throat out in the thick of it.

He rose from his chair first, moving to answer the door, and Jan sat up a little straighter in her own chair behind him. Both of them blinked in surprise when the door opened to reveal a sopping wet and teary eyed Selene, the younger woman looking up at Bill with a pleading expression.

"They've relieved me of duty." She blurted without allowing him to even offer a greeting. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know where else to go…"

Jan pushed her chair back and hurried over, putting her arm around the petite woman's shoulders and leading her inside. Bill closed and locked the door, following them into the living room.

"We'll get you some towels and find you some dry clothes." He murmured, heading up the stairs.

Selene was in bad shape, and was far too exhausted and overwhelmed to talk much on the matter at hand. She opted instead for getting dry, sleeping it off and telling them her story in the morning. When she was safely tucked onto the couch to rest, Jan and Bill retreated upstairs to Jan's room to continue their game, not wanting to disturb her.

…

Ishmael had to wait some time for the talking and the laughter from the room next door to cease, crouching patiently on the end of the bed where Zoey was sleeping. He had made sure she was sleeping deeply tonight, and while he, too, had enjoyed himself, he found himself wishing he had conserved more of his energy for the task at hand.

When the tell tale sounds and smells of Bill and Jan working their own way to exhausted slumber reached him, he smirked and moved to the window.

Before they had retired for the evening, Ishmael had carefully laid out his black sweater with the hood and a pair of black pants and dark shoes for easy access, and he was wearing them now as he opened the window and slipped outside.

He had a mission, and he had to be quick and silent lest any of them wake to find him gone. He knew if anyone discovered him while he was working, they would never let him go.

Dropping easily to the ground outside the second story window, he listened for the guards, crouched in the bushes behind a large tree next to his window. The guards weren't speaking to one another, utterly silent from their post around the front of the house. One of them was breathing a little more deeply than normal…

Sleeping on the job. It was a good thing this place was so relatively safe.

Snuffling quietly in disgust, Ishmael curled his legs beneath him, gathered all his strength and pushed off. He leapt straight up first, high into the air, his breath escaping him with a little 'oof' as he landed once more. Pleased, he coiled his muscles like springs again and leapt forward, as far as he could go. The cover of the darkness and the rain would disguise his movement from the men meant to be guarding the house and from any others that happened to be awake at such a time.

Travelling this way conserved as much energy as he could, and it allowed him to travel much faster than walking or running. It didn't take Ishmael long to reach the lab, the next part of his mission dictating he find a way in.

It was easier than he expected, a grate near the bottom of the building that might have been too small for many normal people to squeeze into coming off without him having to make much effort. Ishmael scuttled in (it was a tight squeeze, but he was scrawny even for a Hunter,) making his way to a dark, empty part of the lab while making as little noise as possible.

He could be very quiet if he needed to be.

This grate wouldn't move as easily as the other, but he still managed to pry it off and drop down, immediately sinking into a crouch and looking up and down the hallway. The darkness was good cover, but closed quarters were never good for him, most of his ability to fight being in the strength of his leap and his pounce.

Ishmael continued to crouch as he made his way up the hall, his breathing seeming a little too loud in his ears. He was out of shape, or maybe just that tired from the night's previous activities… one way or another, he couldn't afford to be heard gasping.

Lifting his head, Ishmael took a deep breath, testing the air for any lingering bits of Jeffries' scent. It was something that belonged to the doctor that he had come for, something he hoped would help the others in figuring out what was going on.

Judging from how many times the others had said the doctor's name during the confrontation that afternoon, something much bigger than mutations was going on here in this lab. Jeffries' documents might be of assistance.

Moving through the darkened hall, Ishmael followed the weak scent until it got stronger, ending up crawling a flight of stairs to a lower level and very nearly getting caught by a pair of guards outside a broken door. Luckily for him, they were engaged in conversation and oblivious to his existence, allowing him to slip past and carry on down the hallway.

Ishmael understood very clearly why they kept the lights low in this part of the lab. The smell of infection was strong, and as he looked around, he could see the walls and floor and ceiling had been torn up by one thing or another. There had been some sort of fierce battle down here…

Continuing forward with as much silence as he could muster, Ishmael finally came across the office he and Jan had spent much time in when they first arrived, a smile baring his sharp teeth. He moved to the filing cabinet across the room, hoping it wouldn't be locked or looted already. The yellow tape that had been stretched across the door of the room was easy to sever and he wondered what purpose it was supposed to serve briefly before testing one of the drawers on the cabinet.

It was locked.

Hissing very softly, Ishmael began looking around the room, crouching down again to check beneath the desk and chairs and other furniture in the room. He even went so far as to dig through the potted plant in the corner, an action that yielded success and a terrible mess on the floor. Using the filthy key he had dug out, he unlocked the top drawer of the cabinet, keeping a close eye on the door just in case those guards finished what they were doing and came on patrol.

There were still files inside the cabinet, and he took all of them, hoping he would be able to carry them all with him and still make his escape.

Glancing around, he found a mostly empty garbage can and pulled the bag out of it, stuffing as many files and papers in as he could. The second drawer followed the first, and the other two proved to be empty but for items like staplers and paperclips.

Tying the bag as delicately as he could to avoid crushing or damaging the files anymore than they already would be, and to avoid tearing the bag with his claws, Ishmael hefted it over his shoulder and crouched once more.

He was going to have to take the fast route.

As luck would have it, there was a broken window on the level above him, and if he had as much luck with those guards, he would be home free.

Ishmael grinned again, hurrying back up the hallway with the bag in tow, but as he neared the broken door where the guards were, he saw that they were once again standing at attention, barely stopping the low growl that threatened to escape him.

It looked as if his luck had run out.

…

"He's not usually this agitated." One of the lab techs murmured as he and his partner stood in front of Castiel's enclosure. The huge Tank was growling softly, eyes still closed as he was still recovering from the tranquilizer dart that he had been shot with earlier and the injuries he had received from Steve. "Sometimes, when we brought new infected in, he would growl like this. But there aren't any new infected coming tonight. In fact, we're not supposed to be keeping any of them anymore."

"Could just be left over aggression from the fight." His partner murmured, frowning.

"Maybe. Either way, we better sedate him again. The tests have all shown they can take it better than humans, so there's no risk of killing him with an overdose." Swallowing a few times, the tech moved to a computer attached to the enclosure, pressing a button to release gas into the chamber. Cas jerked when it hit him, letting out a low moan as it began to take effect.

"We don't want a repeat of earlier today, Castiel." The second tech whispered. "Sleep tight."

As they moved out of the room where they kept their infected specimens, both of them were startled to find that Steve was standing against the glass of his enclosure, staring distantly with glowing red eyes. The enclosure would hold, they knew that for sure, and since they had moved them all to the second lab, there was no way for the mutant to escape through the hole that had been torn in the ceiling.

"Creepy as all hell." The first tech whispered, his partner nodding. "What's got them so worked up?"

"I… can smell him…" Steve gasped, the techs exchanging a glance. "He's here… HE'S HERE!!!"

Like someone had poured a bottle of ink over his hair, Steve's pale locks suddenly turned black, his eyes glowing more brightly now, then he threw his head back and let out a scream that shook the walls and sent things scattering to the floor off the lab tables. Both tech's clapped their hands over their ears, one of them letting out a shout as he moved towards the enclosure. Moving one hand briefly, he slapped it down on the button that released the same gas that had knocked out Castiel, Steve's screams going silent seconds later as he slumped forward onto the floor.

"Shit… shit, that's not good." The second tech cried, both of them hurrying from the lab as quickly as they could.

…

The scream almost made Ishmael lose himself again, dropping the bag to the floor and clawing at his face with a savage snarl. The snarl was lost in the noise, and the guards rushed away from him to investigate, leaving him with no one to block his path or stop him.

Shaking his head as if trying to dislodge some irksome fly, Ishmael picked up the bag again and hurried back up the stairs, something connecting with his head the second he turned the corner out of the stairwell.

Intense pain, stars exploding in his vision, a soft gasp escaping him as he slowly slumped forward to the ground…

As the world began to go dark, his breath escaped him as a sigh of anguish and a soft word, a name.

"Zzzzoooo….eeeeey…"

...

...

...

Author's Note!!  
Alright, well, my town is on fire from all sides, but I'm not on evacuation notice and they're finally containing both fires, so I shouldn't have to be away from my writing or my laptop for any extended periods of time!

Writer's block aside, I finally managed to get this chapter done, and thank you again to the ever so wonderful beta-reader who puts up with rapid updates. XD!

I'm on playlist .com now! If you're interested in viewing my playlist of musical inspiration for this story, you can find me under the name Zara Thaleon there! ^.^ I'll happily provide links for anyone who wants them.

The next chapter may take me a bit longer, writers block is hitting me pretty hard in the stress from the wild fires! I will hopefully have something for you all soon!


	16. Scene 16: Friend or Foe?

The sound of birds chirping outside, signifying the return of the sun and the dawning of a new day drew Bill from his sleep with a smile. He felt pleasant and warm, relaxed even, and the sensation was so unfamiliar these days that he wondered briefly if he was still asleep and having a wonderful dream.

This feeling didn't fade when he felt the warm body pressed against his shift slightly, a soft noise drifting to him.

"Good morning, Sir William," Jan's voice said from beside him, his steel blue eyes opening to see her leaning over him, propping herself up on one elbow.

Bill was silent for a moment, simply smiling up at her in an incredibly fond manner, and then she let out a laugh and kissed his cheek, pushing her long fingers through his silver hair.

"Don't look so surprised to see me," she chuckled, slipping out from under the covers and moving to retrieve her discarded clothing. Bill was content not to move from where he was laying, basking in the still lingering glow of the events of the evening. "Thought you were dreaming, huh?"

"I still think I am," he grunted, rubbing his face with one hand.

Both of them startled and turned to face the door when there was a loud knock, followed by the door opening to admit Zoey.

"Jan! Come quick, I-" the girl stopped short, eyes widening as she looked back and forth between them. Bill wondered briefly how incredibly absurd it seemed, him laying on his back in the rumpled bed while Jan stood in the middle of the room clad in nothing but socks and a long white button down shirt, unable to hold his laughter back when Zoey turned three different shades of red and hastily turned her back to them. "Oh God, I'm so sorry!"

"We're pretty decent, hun, don't worry about it," Jan snickered, moving into the bathroom attached to the bedroom to finish dressing. "What's the matter?'

"Oh, um… I just wanted to… well, I don't mean to alarm you, but Ishmael is gone."

"Gone?" Bill sat up, careful to keep the blankets where they were so he could continue being 'decent.' "What do you mean?"

"I woke up to a cold bed and an open window. I figure he snuck out sometime during the night and hasn't come back yet, but y'know…" Zoey shifted from one foot to the other in discomfort, and Bill grunted in reply, leaning down over the side of the bed to retrieve his discarded pants. "With everything that's happened-"

"Say no more," Jan murmured as she exited the bathroom. "We'll go and search for him. And we'll take Selene too. It seems a little too much like coincidence that she showed up here the same night Ishmael went AWOL."

As she left the room, Zoey continued to stand with her back to Bill, waiting until she heard his approach to speak again. He had managed to slip on a t-shirt and some pants, though his rumpled look would still raise eyebrows when the other men saw him.

"Y'know… because of this," she began, looking up to meet his eyes. "You can't tell me what to do with Ishmael anymore."

"How d'ya figure?" Bill grunted in reply. "Jan ain't infected."

"Yes, but she is married." Zoey clasped her hands behind her back and shrugged ever so slightly. "And think about who she's married to."

There was a moment of silence that stretched between them, and then Bill put his hand on Zoey's shoulder and offered her a sheepish smile.

"Touché," he murmured, patting her shoulder and slipping downstairs to join the others.

…

Ishmael Parker woke up in the dark with such a pain in his head, he was almost sick. He lay on the cold floor groaning for a moment before attempting to lift his head, something hard pressing into the back of his neck and making him freeze. As his hands contracted into fists, his claws made a soft noise against the floor and a very, very soft growl escaped his throat.

"Stay still or I'll shoot," a voice said slowly, clearly in the darkness. There was the smell of blood, the smell of cigarettes, and the prickly scent of fear lingering in the air. "Are you Ishmael? Ishmael Parker?"

Ishmael blinked, frowned, and then let out a soft hiss, nodding a few times.

"Isssh… mael," he confirmed, the gun digging in deeper when he tried to turn his head. "Hhhelp Sshhaaannh."

The pressure from the gun lessened as the person holding it pulled it back a bit, a soft breath being taken in behind him.

"Help Jan?"

"Hnn…" Ishmael began to push himself up, the man with the gun allowing him to do so without attempting to hinder him further. The second he was halfway to his feet, his head began spinning and he fell down again, reaching up fingers to touch the wound on his head. Another groan escaped him and the person in the room with him shifted so that he stood before Ishmael, catching the Hunter's hand gently.

"Stop it. You'll make it worse," the man said firmly, Ishmael blinking to try and see him in the darkness. Usually his eyes were better than humans in the dark, but right now his vision was so blurry he could barely see a thing. When the man shifted again and touched a wet cloth to the wound, Ishmael's head spun again and the next moment he had his teeth sunk into the man's forearm.

There was a yelp of surprise, but the man didn't strike him or yell obscenities as people often did. Instead, he took in a breath and continued his work with careful determination, muttering something about being thankful that Ishmael wasn't contagious.

When he finished, eventually moving to wipe the blood off of Ishmael's face and neck, he set about attempting to pry the Hunter's jaws from his arm, speaking very softly to him what sounded like words of encouragement or comfort.

With his blood rushing so loudly in his ears, Ishmael could barely hear him.

He finally released his hold on the other an, tears streaming down his cheeks and his mouth sticky with blood, an anguished whimper escaping his throat.

"Shit…" the other man breathed. "That'll need stitches." There was a long pause in which neither of them moved, and then the man pressed the cloth into Ishmael's hand, standing once more. "Clean yourself up, we need to get you out of here. We need to get you back to your Zoey."

Ishmael looked up upon hearing the last word, staring through the darkness at the man. It was still hard to see, he was still dizzy and that sick feeling hadn't left his stomach just yet. In fact, the blood was only making that feeling worse.

"By the way, Ishmael Parker, my name is Luke."

…

As he introduced himself, Luke pressed another clean cloth down over the wound on his arm, grimacing ever so slightly. It was bad, and he would need it tended soon, but if he could get himself and Ishmael out of here undetected, all of the papers Ishmael had been attempting to pilfer in tow, he would have one of Ishmael's friends patch him up, no questions asked.

They were probably going to be asking some questions about the Hunter's head wound, however, and he was fully prepared to explain his reasoning for hitting Ishmael so damn hard.

Out of all of them, the old soldier that had been standing with Zoey the day Ishmael arrived inside the base was the one who would most likely understand and since he was the leader of the group, there was a possibility that Luke would get off with little more than some grudging stares and hissed insults. Worst case scenario, Ishmael's very large friend would put a fist in his face and he and Ish would have matching wounds.

"And…" He breathed softly, watching Ishmael straighten to his full height tentatively. "I'm really sorry for hitting you so hard, man."

Luke had been under the impression that Ishmael was taller, but standing with him now, he saw that the younger male wasn't. He was pretty short, actually, pretty scrawny, but starving for five days while dangling from the side of a building would have that effect on you.

Ishmael was staring hard at him, the absence of light making the fact that his eyes still glowed with eerie luminescence a little unnerving, but the attack that Luke found himself anticipating didn't come. Instead, Ishmael swayed ever so slightly, murmured Zoey's name and looked towards the window.

"We're a few stories up, I can't make the jump and neither can you. Did you know that those papers weigh more than you do?" Luke mused, the Hunter looking back at him briefly before moving to inspect the room. Sniffing and searching every inch of it, crouched on all fours like a dog, moving slowly to keep himself from getting sick or dizzy from the head wound.

It was fascinating to watch, but the lingering fear of being so incredibly close to something so dangerous kept Luke on his toes. When Ishmael seemed to be satisfied with his surroundings, he moved to the window again and peered out, tapping one finger against the glass.

"No, Ish, we're not going out the window," Luke repeated, moving to stand with him. Ishmael looked up at him ruefully, then moved to the garbage bag he had stuffed all of the papers in. Luke had been surprised it didn't break while he was trying to drag both Ishmael and the bag up here to this room to hide them while the people in the lab raced about in an attempt to secure the area when Steve started screaming.

There were apparently no more infected around the area to attract, Steve's last escape having attracted them all and brought them straight into the line of the guns they had set up along the barricade.

It was almost a relief. Almost.

If they didn't have two enormous mutant zombies in the base, in this lab, Luke would have felt better. The extraction team would take care of that last worry today, however, and then everyone could relax a little in relative safety here behind the barricades.

"We're going to take the stairs," Luke murmured to Ishmael as he moved to join him again. "But pull your hood up. I don't want people asking questions about that bump I gave you." He pulled out a small flashlight and used the dim light from it to bandage his arm to the best of his abilities, pulling his sleeve down over it gingerly and hoping the blood didn't seep through too much until they had escaped.

Ishmael didn't flinch or try to bite him again when he reached over to pull up the Hunter's hood, realizing he hadn't understood what Luke said, but when the light from the flashlight hit his face, he shied away from it and let out a sickened moan.

As the Hunter was sick on the floor a few feet away, Luke let out a gentle sigh and ran his fingers through his short hair.

"Yeah, that's right… get it out of your system," he murmured. "Heh."

This was going to be an interesting trip.


	17. Scene 17: Burning

Getting out was actually a lot easier than Luke had thought it would be. All of the personnel at the lab were being assembled in preparation of the extraction, and as the two huge military helicopters landed in the field outside the base, everyone had moved outside. This gave Luke and Ishmael, who was moving far more slowly than Luke would have liked, the time to get the garbage bag of files out of the lab. No one was paying them much mind, everyone was on high alert as Castiel and Steve, both guarded heavily, sedated and chained up, were moved from the lab.

Luke pulled Ishmael into the cover of some trees near the lab, frowning as he watched the proceedings. This was one of the more foolish things they had attempted to do… what happened if the infected woke up during transport?

Ishmael groaned at his feet, putting his head in his hands, and Luke's mouth twisted a little more. For someone so strong, the Hunter was surprisingly breakable… every moment, Luke was feeling guiltier about hitting him.

"C'mon. I have a bad feeling about this," Luke murmured to the Hunter, reaching down to take one of his hands and pull him to his feet. Ishmael grunted in protest but moved with him, garbage bag in tow. Ishmael was the one who had to carry it, Luke couldn't move quickly enough while trying to lug it along. "If we don't hit any inspections on the way out, we're home free."

Their luck, however, didn't hold. The worst part about it was the fact that it wasn't an inspection that stopped them.

…

"What's going on here?" Jan murmured softly as she and the other survivors entered the vicinity of the lab. There were armed guards everywhere, absolutely everywhere, and the two helicopters prepped nearby looked like they were built to carry a large number of people.

"Looks like they're taking the infected from the lab out of the base," Louis replied, Selene letting out a little noise of distress.

"What happens if they've got Ishmael?" She cried. "We've got to stop them!"

Before she could run forward, Bill caught her arm, shoving her back behind him as he approached one of the guards standing nearby.

"Don't jump to conclusions. Bill's very observant, he's obviously aware of something we're not," Jan explained to the rather indignant looking woman. "Let him do all the talking."

Zoey was looking around anxiously, clutching her hands together as she stood near Francis, who was carrying a shot gun he insisted was just in case they ran into trouble.

"Holy shit," Louis murmured softly when the armed officials at the lab brought a Tank out. While it seemed heavily sedated, the sight of it made Louis' stomach flop. "What do they think they're doing? Are they trying to get those things out of the base?"

"They're dead," Francis grumbled matter-of-factly. "That thing ain't gonna stay asleep the whole time."

"And when it starts tearing up the plane and killing all those guards…" Zoey said, frowning a little herself. "People are so stupid."

"This is not good," Bill growled when he returned to them. "They're taking both Steve and Castiel the Tank to another base, a bigger one with more security."

"What's not good about it?" Zoey asked, raising an eyebrow. "It gets them away from us."

"Yes, but a bigger lab means they'll probably be doing experiments on Steve, trying to figure out his mutation. Castiel's apparently incredibly intelligent, and I have a feeling his purpose is to test Steve's mutations. If they fuck around like this, they're going to create something even worse than what Steve already is. They're gonna be the death of us all."

"You thinkin' they're gonna create a super-bug?" Louis replied, eyes wide. "I mean, more of a super-bug than the infection already is?"

"That's what I'm thinkin'," Bill confirmed, looking over at Jan. "They'll probably ask you to go along, considering you're his wife."

"I'm not going anywhere," Jan replied, shaking her head.

"And neither am I. At least now I know exactly why they let me go." Selene was scowling. "They knew I would stand in the way of their 'progression' and try to stop them from doing something so incredibly foolish."

"We've gotta find Ishmael. If they get their hands on him, none of us will be able to stop them from taking him too and I don't put it past them to pull the trigger if we back them into a corner," Bill said, he and Francis the first to begin pushing through the crowd of people gathering to watch the goings on.

They hadn't gotten far when they heard the roar sound out above the crowd, Francis bringing his gun up as Bill spat a curse. When they heard guards beginning to scream in agony, their charge slowed, and by the time they got to the edge of the crowd, they were greeted by a rather terrible sight.

Two or three of the armed convoy around Steve were on the ground, clutching their faces as something like acid burned slowly away at their skin. The greenish bile of a Boomer was spread on the ground around them, and on their clothing, though Bill had never seen Boomer bile do this sort of thing to people before. As he watched, the grass began to smoke as the bile turned a sickly red color, the guards still screaming in pain before him.

In the cage where they had Steve chained, the mutant was making quick work of escaping, his body swelling so rapidly the bars of the cage exploded off. He let out another roar, a matching one sounding from no more than twenty feet away, from the Tank they had been transporting as well.

Steve, however, didn't seem interested in the other Tank, instead turning his head to look to the left and letting out an enraged howl.

"Ishmael!!!" The mutant bellowed, beginning to tear through the gathered guards and officials, paying no heed to their weapons.

He didn't get far before a chain whipped out and wrapped around his leg, yanking it out from underneath him. His momentum drove him to the ground hard, and he was dazed for a second as he began to be dragged backwards across the ground.

Looking over, Bill saw that Castiel had also freed himself and was using the chains he had been bound with to keep Steve's attention on him. The Tank looked even angrier than most did while they were attacking, and the fact that he knew how to use the chain as a weapon this way was disheartening.

It seemed that Ishmael Parker wasn't the only different one.

Steve pulled himself to his feet and turned to face Castiel, who was already rushing forward with one huge fist pulled back. Steve couldn't react quickly enough to stop Cas from driving his fist into his face, and he flew into a small group of people nearby, crushing them beneath his bulk.

"My fight… is not… with YOU!!" Steve screamed, rolling back to his feet and pulling back his own fist. His fingers elongated into claws - Bill realized that Steve was actually controlling his mutations now, judging this as a very, very bad sign - but Cas remembered this trick and was ready for him this time, dodging out of the way and heading straight for one of the parked cars nearby.

Steve gave chase… Bill could only assume that in order to get to his true target, Steve had to eliminate Castiel.

That would give them enough time to find Ishmael and get him the hell out of here. As strong and fast as Ishmael was, he was no match for something like Steve, especially since Steve could change himself at will and had a wide arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"This way," he said to Francis, who nodded at him and backed in the direction Bill indicated, not wanting to take his eyes off the fight.

Castiel had grabbed hold of one of the cars, torn it in half and was now using it to batter Steve across the ground in front of the lab. Steve's shrieks filled the air, and it was clear he was losing control of the situation. Despite all his mutations, the Tank was smarter than he was and was proving that Steve was just being far too cocky.

"Stop messing around!" One of the armed men shouted to the others. "Shoot them! Kill them!!"

Many of the guards still standing rushed to take position, opening fire on the two giants as they battled. Castiel used one half of the car to block the bullets, the other half being thrown through the air towards Steve as he rushed forward. Steve ducked out of the way of the flying debris, ignoring the fact that it smashed through the wall of the lab and crushed several more people. His sights were set on Castiel…

Even as he ran, his body changed again, flesh and muscle melting away until he stood just slightly taller than normal, his ashen skin bare and his stomach bulging. Breathing deeply, Steve skid to a halt and spat more of the acidic bile right into Castiel's face, the hail of bullets that bombarded him becoming useless as he ducked behind Castiel's bulk and the half a car the Tank still carried.

Cas was now screaming, swiping at his face with one massive hand in an attempt to clear the bile from his eyes, the car dropping to the ground. He swung one fist out and caught Steve's shoulder, not quite sending him flying, but certainly sending him sprawling to the grass. Steve rushed to duck behind the car, watching from relative safety as the Tank toppled forward, blood rushing from dozens of wounds. The acid had taken its toll… most of the Tank's face was by the time it was over, Bill and Francis watching with horror from the front steps of the lab.

It was then they heard the tell tale shriek, watching a dark shape sail gracefully through the air overhead, voices crying out from all sides. Ishmael hit the ground hard but was running in seconds, his dark eyes blazing with fury and his teeth bared. He crouched down and gathered his strength, launching himself into the air once again as Steve stood from behind the car with wide, eager eyes.

They met in midair as Steve launched himself forward as well, crashing to the ground again in a tangle of limbs and claws, both of them snarling like animals.

Steve got the upper ground quickly, but Ishmael's strong legs dug into his gut and pushed him back, the Hunter rolling quickly to his feet before dashing forward to rake his claws across Steve's face.

Steve caught his hand with unnatural speed, slamming his forehead into Ishmael's and making the Hunter jerk, yelp and go limp. Teeth bared in a wicked grin, Steve rose up for the finishing blow…

The roar of Francis' gun was terribly loud coming from so close, and Steve himself jerked with a yelp, turning to face the source of the sudden pain he was feeling. Seeing Francis approaching, Steve turned back to look at Ishmael, who was trying to get to his feet once again.

Another blast from the shotgun hit him, and Steve hesitated long enough for Ishmael to pounce.

This close to Steve, the pounce incapacitated the mutant, Ishmael raising his claws and beginning to tear at Steve's flesh with a scream of rage. There was such anger and hate in his face, Bill felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he left the steps to join Francis.

Both of them backed away very quickly when Steve let out another howl, his bulging stomach bursting beneath Ishmael's claws and sending blood and bile flying over the immediate area around him.

Ishmael found himself covered in the stuff. It began to burn his skin immediately, so he leapt away with a yelp, scurrying to remove the sweater he was wearing to try and keep it from eating through and causing further damage.

Bill watched Francis rush back towards the lab, his attention turning to Ishmael again when the Hunter began to cry out in pain. He was rubbing himself on the clean grass a few feet from where Steve was laying, trying desperately to remove the acidic bile from his skin, but it didn't look like it was working. Angry red patches were appearing all over the mottled skin of his torso, a terrible cry rising from Ishmael's throat that was matched by the sound of a woman screaming his name.

Zoey had finally pushed her way through the crowd, two soldiers who tried to stop her being easily stopped by Louis and Selene. Zoey ran to Ishmael's side, but didn't touch him, her blue eyes filling with tears as she watched him thrashing about on the grass.

"S-someone help him!" She cried, looking around in desperation.

"Move," a voice growled behind Bill, who turned to see Francis with an enormous jug of water. There must have been a water cooler inside, in the reception area that Francis had remembered seeing. It was a surprisingly intelligent act on Francis' part, the giant of a man rushing over to Ishmael and proceeding to dump the contents of the jug over the Hunter.

The effect was again immediate. Ishmael stopped thrashing about and curled up under the stream of water, tiny whimpers escaping him as he lay half naked in the grass.


	18. Scene 18: The Plot Thickens

"Get out of the way! Move!"

"Clamp that there, stop the bleeding. Get him hooked up to that IV, now!"

"He's going into shock, losing too much blood. He's crashing!"

The doors of the operating room crashed open as doctors, orderlies and armed guards alike escorted a gurney in, what was left of Steve laying on it as the doctors fought desperately to keep his blood from contaminating everything. No amount of sedative seemed to be working on the mutant, who was quite coherent and screaming obscenities the entire way to the operating room, the doctors who tended him cringing from the language. They were also trying to save his life, an endeavor that Selene refused to take part in when they asked her to return to the lab with them. She was standing with Jan and Bill now, in the observation room above the operating room, along with the young guard who had saved her from the Smoker the day before.

He identified himself as Luke and claimed to have vital information that he needed to relay to them when he entered, Bill eyeing him suspiciously as he produced a great number of files from a bag he had been carrying around.

"Where did you get this? HOW did you get this?" Selene asked in awe, recognizing the small cramped writing that belonged to Jeffries in a heartbeat.

"Actually…" Luke shifted from one foot to the other. "Ishmael was the one who found them. He ransacked Jeffries' office last night, tore everything apart till he found all of these." He gestured at the files.

"Ishmael?" Jan's eyes widened, and she stepped around Bill despite the old man's attempt to keep her back. "You saw Ishmael here last night?"

"Yes. He was creeping around the lab, hooded." Luke's face was beginning to turn an interesting shade of scarlet, and Bill pulled Jan back a bit before stepping forwards himself. "I helped him out, helped him carry the stuff he took. The fight outside delayed us from getting it to you."

"You helped him." Bill's voice was cold, his steel grey eyes boring into Luke as he took another step forward. "Was that before or after you hit him?"

Luke's face was now a brilliant red, and Jan's expression turned murderous. Selene made a noise a little like an angry cat, hands clenching into fists.

"… After. And there was good reason for me doing it in the first place." Luke said softly, tensing when Bill took the front of his jacket in one hand, shoving him back against the table behind him. "Old man, back off! You know what it's like, working for a place like this."

"The army I served wasn't corrupt and conniving like yours, son," Bill hissed. "And your little civic duty, protecting the peace, whatever the fuck you wanna call it almost cost a good friend his life out there. If it weren't for that meathead Francis thinking fast for once, Ishmael would be DEAD." As he spat the last word, Bill shoved Luke backwards hard, releasing him at last.

"Well, that creepy fucking thing you call a friend isn't dead, so don't get your panties in a bunch old man!" Luke shouted back, refusing to back down or give in to the intimidation.

Both Selene and Jan raised their voices in protest.

"Ishmael Parker is far smarter than some humans I know!" Selene cried.

"Ish is very much a friend, I consider him like a son to me, you stupid bastard! You can't get past what he is to see who he is!" Jan added, Bill still attempting to keep her back.

"I've met some dogs that are smarter than human's lady, and I know people who consider dogs to be friends and people too! Ishmael Parker, that Hunter you've all put so much faith in, is nothing more than an animal to me. A very smart animal! You can't treat him like a person when he'd turn around and kill you without a second thought!" Luke was staring at Jan as he spoke, considering her the biggest threat in the room at the moment. Bill might have been feisty, but he wasn't about to strike an armed man. Selene didn't seem the type to hurt someone without physical provocation… Jan was downright pissed and the look on her face and in her eyes hinted that she wouldn't feel the slightest bit guilty if she killed him here and now. "This is the reality of the situation people! Steve keeps going berserk, trying to get his hands on that Hunter. We can't afford anymore casualties, so you know what's going to happen to Ishmael!"

Judging Selene by her looks alone was Luke's first mistake. Refusing to take his eyes off of Jan was his second.

The look of utter horror on his face when Selene came up behind him and smashed him over the head with his own rifle would be in Bill and Jan's heads forever.

Selene stood over Luke's crumpled form, her face colored with fury and breath heavy, and when she raised her eyes to look over at Bill and Jan, she offered them a breathless little laugh.

"… Over my dead body," she murmured.

"If what he says is true, and they're planning on offering Ishmael as a peace treaty to get Steve to stop killing people… we've gotta find Ishmael fast. Where did they take him?" Jan asked, moving to hug Selene furiously.

"They must have taken him to where they can get him cleaned up and treated medically. Zoey's with him, and she's as fiery as you are, Selene. I wouldn't put it past her to do much the same thing." Bill muttered. "I'm getting sick of this horse shit, sick of this military and these people. A zombie apocalypse sure makes all the lines clear, doesn't it?"

"And all the true colors come out. Disasters like this bring out the worst in people," Selene replied almost sadly.

"Don't feel bad about what you did. The bastard deserved it and he'll be fine. Someone will find him. Let's go." Taking both their hands, Jan hurried to the door, leaving Luke unconscious on the ground behind them. As an afterthought, Bill turned back and grabbed the bag of files, figuring they may need them in the near future.

…

Francis grimaced in pain as the nurse tending to him cleaned one of his many bite wounds with antiseptic, hissing through clenched teeth. She offered him a small smile of sympathy, leaning over to pick up the needle she intended to use to stitch a few of his wounds shut, blinking in surprise when the giant of a man leapt out of his chair and reached for his beloved shotgun.

"Please sir! Sit down; I'm attempting to help you!" The nurse bleated, her face paling.

"No one here is sticking me with any God damned needles!" Francis bellowed, Louis sticking his head out of the room across the hall to see what the commotion was, a frown crossing his face.

"FRANCIS!" He barked, stepping out of the room and hurrying to put one hand on the barrel of the shotgun. "Let the lady stitch your damn arm, what's the matter with you?!"

"I don't wanna end up like Stan, all mutated and shit!"

"It's Steve, and she's not trying to inject you with anything! She's trying to stitch you up!"

"There might be something on the needle!!"

Their shouting was cut off by the sound of a scream from the room Louis had exited, both men turning to look towards the source with pained expressions. The screaming continued even as a woman's voice began to plead with the screamer, and Louis moved back towards the room in silence.

Francis sat back down in his chair, holding out his arm that wasn't clutching his gun with a sober expression. The nurse hesitated for a long moment before returning to her work, yelping in fear when Francis snarled and turned his face towards her with teeth bared shortly after she began.

"That. Hurt," He hissed, the nurse turning pale once more.

"FRANCIS!" Louis shouted from the next room, silencing the larger man once again and making him turn his face away so the nurse would be able to continue.

Inside the room across the hall, Zoey was crouched on the blood stained floor of the shower stall built for assisting patients who couldn't bathe themselves or built for washing off whatever types of caustic materials might fall on a person while working in a lab, one hand stretched out towards but not quite touching Ishmael.

The Hunter was lying on his back on the floor of the shower himself, his back arched as he screamed in pain. The water running in the shower cascaded over him, washing away the soap the doctors had been attempting to use to clean his wounds. In a fit of pain and rage, Ishmael had sent one doctor to the emergency room and several guards scurrying away with their tails between their legs when he got his teeth into them as they tried to pull him off the doctor.

Only Zoey seemed able to calm him down, the sound of her voice having a soothing effect on him even as he thrashed about on the floor beneath the water. The blood that covered him, and her, didn't belong to only him, but some of the red on his skin wasn't blood at all. The water had washed away whatever residue was left from the fight with Steve on some parts of Ish's body, leaving his skin blotchy and angry looking.

Zoey was attempting to get him to stay still long enough for her to help him get the soap off his wounds, knowing it probably stung more than any of them could possibly imagine. Her hands moved over his bare skin, she whispered softly to him as she worked, finally managing to get him to the point where he wasn't screaming or thrashing, though he was still rigid with pain.

"You're doing great, Ishmael," Zoey breathed, helping him sit up so she could rub more of the blood from his skin. "You're… you're doing just great. Just hang in there a bit longer and we'll get you back to normal, good as new."

When Ishmael raised his silver grey eyes to hers, Zoey could see that feral light, that strange hunger that reflected in them when the rage was starting to take hold. It was the same light that his eyes held just before he kissed her…

She looked up at the guard standing outside the shower stall, swallowing a few times.

"I… I need you to leave and shut the door behind you," she said softly, the guard glancing down with a frown. "Please."

"I'm afraid that's not gonna happen, miss. We can't leave you alone in here with him no matter how well you two seem to know each other," the guard replied, shaking his head.

"There are certain ways to deal with Ishmael when he's like this, certain ways to calm him… and I don't want you to be here right now," Zoey said simply, the guard's eyebrows disappearing under his helmet as he raised them in surprise. Something akin to disgust crossed his features, but he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, Zoey able to hear Louis' voice outside, muffled by the door and the water.

She turned back to Ishmael, who was leaning a little closer now, trying not to flinch when his hand closed over her throat gently. He wasn't trying to hurt her, it was just one of his ways of asserting his dominance over her, and that's just the sort of thing he needed at the moment.

"You don't have to take your time," she breathed, Ishmael tilting his head very slowly to the side, his eyes locked with hers and his clawed thumb caressing the side of her neck. "You can lose control if you need to. I'm here for you, Ishmael… anything you need, anything you want… I'm here for you."


	19. Scene 19: NOW She's a Damsel in Distress

One of the doctors in the operating room was watching the observation deck carefully while the others worked, a smile touching her lips when she saw what occurred between Selene and Luke. The second the survivors left the room, she turned to one of the orderlies and offered him a nod. He nodded in return and moved to the control panel connected to the doors and windows, flipping a switch to make the heavy shutters come down, blocking the room from outside view.

The doctor moved to a small computer at the back and used it to disable the video cameras as the other doctors continued to work hard to stabilize Steve. The man had gone into shock and so was no longer screaming profanities at everyone in the room, but he was still coherent enough to send a few nurses and attendants flying with one mutated and well aimed fist, the doctor at the computer hiding a smile as she hurried back to help.

Once they had secured the mutant to his table, she and the orderly stepped away from the group, speaking very quietly to one another while a different doctor gave them a report on Steve's progress.

"I believe that may have done it. We're ready to sedate him and put him back in isolation in preparation for extraction."

"That is no longer necessary," the female doctor replied, pulling a gun out from under her scrubs. The orderly did the same, and without further hesitation, they began to fire, quickly dispatching all the other personnel in the room.

When it was over and the last of them stopped moving and moaning in pain, the doctor and the orderly moved to Steve's table, the doctor prepping a rather large syringe while the orderly made sure Steve's restraints were secure.

"Sorry chaps," the orderly remarked in an accented voice, tucking his brown hair from his face. "Doctor's orders."

"Wha's goin' on?" Steve slurred, jerking and letting out a yelp of pain when the doctor jabbed the syringe into him and emptied its contents. "What the…" His words faltered, his eyes flickering up into his head as the same sedative they had used on him during the first fight with Castiel flooded his veins.

"His regeneration is becoming more prominent, we'll have to move fast before the sedative wears off," the doctor said; the orderly nodding in agreement as they wheeled the unconscious man out of the room together. "When we get to the other lab, the genetic sequencing we've been experimenting with can be tested; if we can somehow remove the rage from him, he'll make a perfect weapon for the military. Perfect for fighting the rest of these creatures that are taking over our world."

"You're sure the others won't interfere?" The orderly asked, the doctor smiling coldly.

"If they do, we have our orders. All of them are expendable but the two women. Those two, we can use as leverage," she replied.

…

His female had always managed to assert a degree of control over their love making, but here and now, Ishmael made sure to make it clear he was having none of that.

Rougher than usual, more aggressive, he took her offered comfort and channeled all the rage and pain he was feeling into a much different activity than the infection begged.

Zoey still made an effort to keep herself quiet, but Ishmael didn't care about that now. His growls, cries and gasping filled the small space around them, one of his hands burying in her hair and dragging her head back as he moved hard against her. He was at least careful about keeping his sharp teeth well enough away from the pale column of her throat, knowing full well that he could easily kill her if he got carried away.

He was less careful about his claws, dragging them across her back and hips hard enough to leave marks and in some places, hard enough to bleed.

Zoey didn't seem to mind this, or at least gave no indication that it bothered her, wrapping her legs tightly around him when he jerked her hips up into his a little more firmly.

They rode the growing wave together; Ishmael's rage finally draining from him when release claimed them both, the Hunter collapsing against his female and panting for air while she simply clung to him with her eyes closed tightly.

It took a moment or two for Ishmael's sense to return, the smell of Zoey's blood and the dull stinging of his wounds making him whimper and rise to look at her.

Slowly, they untangled themselves, Zoey smoothing his damp hair from his face and planting a very gentle kiss on his forehead, taking the time to inspect his head wound. Ishmael stared at her for a long moment, a flicker of regret moving through him. He had hurt her…

Angry red streaks covered her sides, a long line of cuts crossed her back, but she was smiling at him none the less. Perhaps she was simply relieved that he was okay.

They spent a little more time beneath the water together, Zoey making sure Ishmael's skin was clean, and then they gingerly dressed again and moved back out to join the others. Francis and Louis said nothing about what might have happened in there, partially because Jan, Bill and Selene had shown up to join them, the old man moving to give Zoey a firm hug.

She tried to keep from wincing, the short intake of breath drawing Bill's attention but the smile on her face making him drop any questions he might have asked about it.

"Thank goodness you two are alright. We were talking to that soldier up there in the observation room," Jan explained. "He was saying they're going to try and use Ishmael as bait to control Steve."

"That'll never happen," Louis said with a frown. "How could they with all of us here protecting him?"

"Something tells me things have changed," Bill murmured, glancing around. "We need to get out of here, out of this lab. We need to get back to the house and start thinking about getting out of this base altogether. Things are pretty hinky."

"It's getting' to the point where I'm ready to take on more zombies rather than stay here," Francis muttered. "And now that we've got more to our number, cause Selene and Jan gotta come with us, and we've got Ishmael… we should be alright, right?"

"We don't really have much of a choice. We can't stay here and let them-" Zoey was cut off by the sound of gunfire from down the hallway, all of them ducking and backing into the room across the hall for safety, Francis bringing his shotgun up.

"Search the rooms! The chopper's leaving in fifteen and we need to secure our cargo!" A woman's voice shouted, Selene's eyes widening.

"That's one of the doctors!" She hissed to the others. "What is she doing?!"

The answer came when the doctor and a young man wheeled a gurney carrying Steve past the door, two armed guards moving into the room they were hiding in.

Francis shot first, his shotgun blasting one guard back while the other was swiftly overcome by both Jan and Bill; both of them stripped of their weapons and left on the ground while the group hurried out into the hallway to stop the doctor.

"I'm warning you! We've been told to kill anyone who interferes by orders of the U.S. Military!" The doctor screamed down the hallway at them, aiming a pistol in their direction. "We don't need any of you alive! We're here for Ishmael!"

"We know!" Francis growled, leveling the shotgun at the woman, who stared at him with wide eyes. "Normal rules of society don't mean squat out here lady!"

"I'll tell him to shoot unless you stand down!" Bill shouted, the doctor looking back at the man with her before turning her eyes to the group gathered in the hallway.

"Better yet, we'll sic the Hunter on you!" Zoey called, glancing down at Ishmael. The Hunter was staring furiously at Steve, who was still very unconscious.

"We've got our orders and you're expendable," the doctor said, firing her pistol a few times as the man with her started wheeling the gurney away. Both shots went wild, one of them bouncing off a wall before hitting a fire extinguisher behind them while the other zoomed over their heads and smashed a window behind them.

Just as the man was reaching the elevator with the gurney, Steve's body rippled; his bonds exploding and a shriek escaping the mutant's throat. One quickly expanding fist swung out and carried the man into the wall next to the elevator, crushing him, and then Steve rolled off of the gurney and to his feet, howling and beating his chest with his fists as he charged at them.

Ishmael steeled himself to attack, Francis pumped some rounds from his shot gun into the beast, but Steve was ignoring both of them. Selene and Jan leapt out of the way as Bill fumbled for his side arm and Louis let out a shout, grabbing Zoey's shoulders.

Steve barreled through all of them, knocking both Bill and Francis down and causing Ishmael to leap out of the way to avoid being trampled, one massive fist reaching out to wrap around Zoey, wrenching her from Louis' grip.

Several voices screamed her name, an incoherent shout rising from Ishmael, then Steve continued down the hallway, using his shoulder to knock the rest of the window and part of the wall out as he steamrolled through it.

Crashing to the ground with Zoey still in hand, the mutant turned and looked over his shoulder, body melting and bubbling until he was roughly human sized. He picked Zoey up and slung her over his shoulder, gathering the strength in his legs and leaping away like a Hunter.


	20. Scene 20: One Whispered Word

Luke woke some time later with a bitter taste in his mouth, not daring to open his eyes as he lifted his head. Nausea washed through him, a groan escaping his throat.

That little doctor could hit pretty hard for someone her size. Reaching out to take his gun in his hand, he fumbled with the sunglasses he kept in the front pocket of his jacket, hoping they weren't broken by the fall. His luck was pretty much the same as it had been earlier… the glasses were smashed. Discarding what was left of them, he forced himself to his feet, putting one hand over his eyes like a shield and looked around the observation deck through half closed eyes. The light was dim enough in here that it didn't hurt his already aching head, so Luke pulled his hand away from his face, moving to the window of the observation deck.

A curse escaped his throat at the sight of the scene below, his stumbling feet taking him down to see if any of the people laying on the floor of the observation room were actually still alive. Most of them were very obviously dead, having received bullet wounds to the head or torso, but one of them stirred ever so slightly upon being touched by Luke's hand.

"… S-Stacey… Tal…" The nurse gasped, turning unfocused eyes to Luke. "H-her and that… British man… they sent over w-with Selene."

"They did this?" Luke asked, wiping some of the blood from the nurse's mouth. She managed a weak nod and closed her eyes.

"T-took… Steve. Heard shooting, upstairs… s-stop them, please! Stop them…" She gave one last rattling gasp, Luke feeling her go limp, spitting a curse before standing. He dragged his fingers through his hair, touching the wound on the back of his head gingerly, and then hurried towards the elevator down the hall with his gun in hand.

Things were starting to get a little too complicated for his taste.

As Luke stepped onto the elevator and began to ride it up, he let his thoughts turn back to the Hunter. What was so remarkable about this Hunter that had so many people under its spell? Was it because he could speak; some semblance of speech? Was it because he was like a big dog, and friendly, even cuddly to some people? Was it because he was intelligent, or because he was so very obviously in love with Zoey?

Sighing shortly, Luke touched his wound again and shook his head, closing his eyes.

"Sure, they were people once," he whispered. "But they're not now, and look at the mess they've made."

Once the elevator reached the second floor of the building, three stories above the operating room where he had been, Luke could hear voices, shouts, reaching out to hit the stop button; his heart was now thundering in his ears.

It was Francis, that big biker guy that had come with Zoey and the others. One of the others was out there, screaming in pain… he could also hear Jan's voice, speaking reassuringly to someone. After a few moments, Luke realized that neither Zoey nor the Hunter were with the group, hitting the second floor button before starting the elevator again. It lurched upwards slightly, then jerked to a stop, the doors sliding open with a soft ding.

That was when Luke came face to face with Francis' shotgun, a yelp escaping his throat as he raised his hands in alarm. A quick glance at his surroundings, he saw the bodies of Dr. Tal and the British nurse that had been her assistant, not to mention a great deal of blood and slime, and the prone forms of Louis and Selene.

From what Luke could gather, the doctor had opened fire on the others after Steve escaped and …

"Where's Zoey?" Luke asked, eyes narrowing.

"Steve's got her, Ishmael went after them," Jan said without hesitation, glancing over her shoulder. "If he says anything rude, anything off, anything at all about Ishmael, shoot him Francis."

"H-hey! Don't shoot me… I'm not gonna say anything," Luke stammered, Francis' face twisted in disgust. "W-what happened here?"

"Your doctor friends tried to kill us," Bill growled from his spot crouched by the wall. His face was covered in blood, deep gashes running across it. "Luckily and unluckily for us, Steve has grown used to that sedative you keep putting in him."

"What happened to you?" Luke asked softly, trying to edge out of the elevator but freezing when Francis shifted his gun.

"Tried to stop Ishmael from mauling that doctor when she shot Louis and Selene, he gave me something to remember him by," Bill chuckled softly; using the cloth he was holding to wipe some of the blood from his face.

"Are they gonna live?" Luke jerked his head towards the two lying on the ground, Jan sparing him another glance that seemed more like a glare this time. "I am genuinely concerned here, lady, don't give me that look."

"They'll live, but our plans to get the hell out of here are on hold because of what the doctor did," She spat in return to him.

"You were going to leave?" Luke's eyes widened and he glanced at Francis, then Bill, then Jan, shaking his head. "You can't do that. Not now."

"Why not?" Bill grunted.

"You're registered here now. You'd be considered deserters and they'd-"

"They'd what? Hunt us down? Fuck that," Francis growled. "We're free people; they don't own us and can't control us. If we wanna leave, we'll leave. No skin off their backs, less mouths to feed and all that. We're in the middle of a zombie apocalypse; they shouldn't care if we wanna leave."

"They wouldn't care if you didn't plan on taking Ishmael with you. They still want him," Luke said softly, Francis growling and putting his finger on the trigger of the gun. "Whoa whoa whoa! Wait a second!"

"She said to shoot you if you talked about him."

"I-I-I-"

"Francis," Jan said, standing and wiping her blood stained hands on her pants. "Wait. Don't shoot him yet." She turned her eyes to Luke, narrowing them. "We need antibiotics and things like that for the road, we're going to be taking injured people with us and we need to keep them healthy. You can get us some?"

"Why would I? Didn't I just get finished telling you-"

"Listen, Luke." Jan offered him a smile. "What I mean is, we can kill you, take your keys, your card, whatever… and we'll get them with or without your help."

Luke was silent and still for a long moment, staring back at Jan with disbelief, taking in Francis' smirk, his breath growing heavy in his chest.

"You people… are insane," he finally croaked, eyeing Bill as the old man got to his feet with a grunt and came over.

"You're one of the ones who drove us to it, son," he remarked, putting on his battered green beret. "Now… are you going to cooperate, or are we going to have to kill you?"

"I'll cooperate because I don't want to die, but when the others find out about-"

"They're not going to. Now that we have your cooperation, you get to come with us," Jan said with a smile. "After all, we'll need someone else able to fire a gun for the first bit. And once Ishmael comes back with Zoey, we're hitting the road."

Luke felt at a loss for words, at once thankful that Francis wasn't pointing that damn shotgun at him anymore and wishing he had actually pulled the trigger.

…

With strength and speed that belied his size, Ishmael had scaled the tallest tree he could find, using it as a vantage point to figure out which direction Steve was travelling in. It was hard to smell him, the scent of blood was thick in this area, and the bile that he had been covered in earlier had damaged his senses ever so slightly.

Ishmael's keen eyes picked out the hulking form of the mutant from this distance, leaping from the tall tree effortlessly as he headed in that direction. The adrenaline that was coursing through him erased the pain of his wounds, the exhaustion he had been feeling and the warm afterglow from his time with his female, and his focus was sharp, determined.

Even on two legs, he was faster than most humans, everything around him becoming a background blur as he powered after Steve, the scream that escaped his throat a long one. The scream was a wordless challenge to the beast…

The scream let him know Ishmael was coming. And by the grace of Steve's wife, Ishmael's friend, he was going to kill him.

"_Ishmael." The voice barely registered to the furious Hunter as Jan pulled him away from the prone form of Bill, who stirred and moaned on the floor. "Ishmael, focus." _

_Turning his dark eyes to the woman who had saved his life, Ishmael snarled savagely, Jan's stern expression quieting him. _

"_You have to go and get Zoey. Don't worry about us, just go and find Zoey. And…" Jan paused, looking down at the floor briefly before pulling him close. "And find Steve." She whispered in his ear. "When you find him, kill him. Kill him, Ishmael."_

"Kill!!" Ishmael shouted, dropping onto all fours to gather the strength in his legs. He leapt after the retreating mutant, covering far more ground this way. Those that saw him let out shouts of surprise, but not one of them was stupid enough to raise arms against him, knowing just from the way he moved that he was on a mission.

Ishmael had to catch Steve before he reached the walls of the base… he had to stop him before then because if Steve escaped, it would be far more difficult to get Zoey back. Steve could take her anywhere out there, and it wasn't safe for Ishmael to be out there alone.

He smelled too much like humans now, and there was nothing to stop the lessers from attacking him.


	21. Scene 21: To the Death

Author's Note!!

This chapter is a little more gory and disturbing than the others, so I feel the need to put up a warning here!! If you're weak of stomach, squeamish in any way, this might bother you a bit! I'm sorry!

…

…

…

Steve heard the scream from some distance behind him, a wicked smile touching his lips. He understood very well what that scream meant; but he couldn't worry about it. He had all he needed to ensure the final epic one on one battle to the death between himself and the Hunter.

He had the Hunter's girl. He had taken her from him just as the Hunter had taken Jan, payback like that wasn't quite sweet enough…

Steve needed to finish this once and for all.

Zoey played her part beautifully, screaming and carrying on and beating her weak fists against him as he ran with her slung over one broad shoulder. She screamed even louder after Ishmael's cry, that flicker of hope that came with Ishmael being so close the only thing keeping her from blacking out right now, Steve was sure.

The girl knew that this wouldn't end well for her if the plan didn't work. If Ishmael didn't fight to get to Zoey, he didn't love Zoey and therefore, Zoey was useless.

Expendable…

Gunfire rang out, pain peppering his back, and Steve grunted as he looked over his shoulder. There were armed civilians nearby, ones that were brave enough to face down something like Steve and attempt to stop him. Their aim was good, Zoey would be thankful for that, but if they didn't back off he was going to have to break them.

And breaking them would be all too easy.

Some of the men ran with him as he continued moving, continuing to fire at him. Steve letting out a deafening roar as he ground to a halt and turned to face them. His expression murderous, he moved back towards one of the armed civilians, refusing to relinquish his hold on his precious cargo, realizing a few seconds too late that the men weren't trying to stop him…

They were trying to distract him.

That became altogether too clear when Ishmael suddenly leapt from one of the taller trees nearby, feet slipping ever so slightly in the grass as he launched himself forward at a dead sprint.

Steve let out another roar, backing slowly away, the Hunter darting around him in circles like a dog attempting to intimidate its prey before the final blow. Steve kept turning to try and keep up with him, the mighty tug that dragged Zoey from his grip causing him to let out a grunt of surprise. He turned to face Ishmael once again, seeing the Hunter had seized Zoey's shirt in his teeth and was dragging her across the ground, his dark silver eyes never leaving Steve's form.

The mutant let out an indignant bellow, dashing forward to retrieve his prize, but Ishmael immediately released Zoey and pounced, all his weight colliding with Steve's broad chest.

Winded, Steve seized his leg and swung him around, flinging him away…

The Hunter had been prepared for this. Spinning in midair, Ishmael hit a nearby building feet first, using his powerful legs to push him off again, this time landing on Steve's back. Before Steve could react, the Hunter's sharp claws were digging at his face, his eyes, the sudden blinding pain enough to cause the mutant to lose control of his abilities.

Flesh and muscle melted way, Steve managing to regain hold at the last moment to transform his hands into the long claws of a Witch. Before he had a chance to use them, Ishmael leapt away, the force shoving Steve forward a few paces.

Steve could see the gates, the walls of the encampment now. If he could reach them, lure Ishmael out, he would stand a better chance. The guns were still firing when they had the chance, giving Ishmael a very clear and unfair advantage…

Steve had to get away from them.

Turning to look in the Hunter's direction, Steve let the familiar changes ripple through him as he gathered the strength in his legs and pounced, the two infected meeting in midair, dropping to the ground with a crash. As they thrashed about, a tangle of arms and legs, claws and teeth, Zoey got to her feet, shouting at the men to stop firing.

Very good, Zoey, Steve thought. Just keep playing your part.

Muscles bulged, one huge hand closed over Ishmael's throat, and then Steve was on his feet again, moving swiftly towards the wall of the encampment. Ishmael tore at him, any screams he tried to utter choked off, but Steve hadn't been prepared for the Hunter's legs still being free.

One well aimed kick took Steve's knee out, causing the bigger infected to stumbled forward then crash face first into the ground. His momentum had him sliding a few paces, his mutated hand releasing Ishmael, but both of them remained on the ground for some time after they had stopped.

Steve was horribly winded now, the combination of blood loss and exhaustive fighting starting to get to him. Ishmael was fuelled by pain, rage and the need to see his female safely home, but there was something else in him, something Steve couldn't pin down.

It was like Ishmael was doing this for some other reason, as well. Like he was on a mission.

Trying now to get up, knowing that it would end swiftly if Ishmael managed to rise before he did, Steve let all the muscle and bulk melt away, scrabbling about in the pool of blood and slime that formed around him for a grip. Ishmael let out a dull moan next to him in the grass, his dark shape rising in the corner of Steve's vision.

"N-no! Please, stop! I'm… I'm sorry!" Steve bleated, his hands and legs slipping out from under him and sending him to the ground once more. "I just wanted… I just wanted Jan to see me again!"

Ishmael tilted his head to the side, no indication of anything human left in his young face. His eyes seemed to be glowing, his claws were twitching, his stance that of a Hunter about to attack. He bared his sharp teeth in a growl, crouching down…

Steve shot his tongue out immediately, grabbing one of Ishmael's legs and dragging it out from under him, the Hunter letting out a snarl of anger. Already, his claws were flashing out to sever the appendage wrapped about him, but it gave Steve all the time he needed.

His body changed rapidly as he embraced all of the infected blood inside him, claws and muscles, tumors and boils covering his body, his stomach bulging as a familiar burning crept up in his throat. Steve's eyes glowed red, he opened his mouth to scream…

Then Ishmael kicked him right in the face and sent him flying through the air.

Even with the clear advantage in this fight, Steve was no match for this Hunter. For a REAL Hunter. The power in those legs couldn't be duplicated, and no manner of fancy gimmicks could deny Ishmael's superior speed.

Steve crashed down again, sliding across the grass with a wail of agony, but still the mutant stirred. He wasn't going to let the Hunter win… he wasn't going to let it end this way.

Opening his eyes, peering up through the blood and the dirt that covered him, Steve saw the dark figure sailing gracefully through the air as if in slow motion. He felt the collision, the terrible weight on his chest as Ishmael landed, an ominous cracking sound coming from the area of his ribs…

Then none of it mattered.

…

The Hunter felt his claws bite through flesh, all the way down to the bone. He longed to sink his teeth in, but he knew that flesh was diseased. He knew that flesh was infected and would do him no good. He could taste the bitter blood on his tongue already, the snarl of disgust that escaped him dissolving into quickened breath as he continued to tear at the creature below him.

The Hunter had fought well, he had won this fight. He would claim the prize, the glory, and when he raised his voice to the heavens, all would know that he was the king of the castle now. King of the world, even.

Flesh parted, bones pulled away, organs exposed, he continued tearing, drowning out the terrified screams of the creature below him. Not quite human, but without all the changes, just puny and mortal like the rest of them. Disposable. Clean, but unclean. Tainted but not the same way he was.

Unnatural.

He continued to tear at the creature even after the screaming stopped, tore the throat out, clawed the eyes, the grunts and growls and cries that escaped him accompanied by the fiendish grin on his face.

It had been altogether too long since he had allowed the infection to rage so freely within him. The Hunter had forgotten how much he loved this high.

When at last he was finished, crouching over what little was left of the creature he had hunted and inevitably destroyed, a strange feeling came over him. As he screamed his triumph into the sky, the feeling only got stronger.

The Hunter was forgetting something, wasn't he? There was something else he was meant to do; he just couldn't remember what it was.

In this glorious moment, it seemed so unimportant, but the feeling was persistent and that was enough to give him pause.

A voice… a touch… a memory…

A name.

A woman? Yes, a woman. Was she important? Was she meant to die the same way this creature had?

The Hunter shook his head as though attempting to dislodge an irksome fly, turning his head towards the figures that approached with a low, warning growl.

They had better not get too close, they had better not try to kill him… despite his wounds and his exhaustion, he was still dangerous. He was like a creature that could still bite even after death, and he wouldn't go down without a fight.

There, at the front of the group. A woman.

A female.

His female? Now where had that thought come from?

A scent, a taste, a warmth… sensation.

Passion.

He remembered.

He… remembered…

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

AAAANNNNDDD, because it's me, I leave you there to wait for the next and final chapter of this story! Thanks so much for all your reviews and all your support, couldn't have made it without you and I'm SO SORRY for running out of steam there towards the end. This writer's block was really getting me down, but hopefully I've beaten it!


	22. Scene 22: Back to Good

Author's Note!!

This is the final chapter of Mutation! The epic conclusion!

…

…

…

The large group moved into one of the hangars after Jan and Francis so kindly persuaded Luke to relieve the lab of some of its stronger medicine and better bandages, the reluctant soldier pointing across the room at the heavy, armored truck he was holding the keys for.

"There's enough room in there for all of you and they're not terribly hard to drive. Unless of course, you're going to continue holding me hostage?" He said dryly, Jan flashing him a smile.

"You're going with us, Luke," Bill said sternly from behind him, the younger soldier turning to face the Green Beret. "This is no place for you, and you'll thank us in the end. Unless of course, you're one of the front runners of this whole messy business. In that case, we'll take you outside and shoot you."

"I didn't have anything to do with Steve." Luke's heated tone made Bill's eyebrow twitch. "I wasn't in on any of that. I was part of the team trying to get Ishmael out of here so that we could see if he really WAS the key to the cure. Then when Steve got thrown into the mix, things got messy."

"You felt forced to choose sides?" Bill asked, Luke frowning and shaking his head.

"There were no sides to choose. The lab was right all along, there's more to that Hunter than there seems to be at first glance. And… and spending a little more time with all of you and seeing the destruction that we, the humans, have caused in our attempt to harness the power of the infected, cure it all except for the bits that might be useful for us? It's opened my eyes. I still don't see how anyone could POSSIBLY fall in love with something like Ishmael Parker, but I'm at least willing to give that notion a chance if it means finding another way to do things."

"And you'd still shoot him if you had to, wouldn't you?" Jan remarked, Luke glancing at her and offering a short nod.

"No matter what or who he is, Ishmael Parker is still infected. And you can't just quit that," he said carefully.

"Get in the truck, pretty boy," Francis growled, jabbing him with the shotgun. "If it ain't hard to drive them, lemme do it. You can ride shotgun." Another jab with the gun, and Luke glared up at him without amusement.

Once they had piled into the truck, Luke relieved of all his weapons, Francis started it up and eased it out of the hangar, reaching up to touch the headset he was wearing.

"Yo, can you hear me, old man?"

"Loud and clear and unfortunately, Francis," Bill replied, making Francis chuckle.

"How're things back there?"

"Louis and Selene are comfortable, Jan's treatin' them now. See if you can keep from running anyone over, alright? This rig is bigger than those bikes you're used to driving."

"Sure thing," Francis grunted, looking over at Luke and grinning. "Fun, ain't it?"

"Yes, loads." Luke's face was a bit pale, his gaze flickering between the scene out the front window and the shotgun that Francis held across his lap.

"We're gonna see about getting' our friends first before we get out of here. Then we're gonna bust through the gates if they don't open 'em for us and get the hell out of here." Francis shifted as he guided the truck out of the hangar completely and began rolling across the packed dirt outside. Rain was beginning to fall… "I'd much rather party with the zombies than stay here, after all."

…

Zoey could feel her heart breaking, threatening to stop in her chest as she stood some distance from Ishmael and stared at him. Her stomach still churned despite her having emptied it already… watching Ishmael utterly destroy Steve, mutilating him worse than she had EVER seen a Hunter do before was hard and a little more than she had been able to handle.

At least she wasn't the only one. Several of the other people who had gathered, the people who had been working to help save her had also done the same thing. She didn't think any of them blamed each other for it, either.

Now Ishmael was covered in gore, staring at them while standing in a defensive position, growling in warning. His dark eyes flitted over the group, coming at last to rest on her as she held her hand out towards him.

"Ishmael… it's me. It's Zoey," she said clearly, hoping her voice wasn't shaking quite as much as she thought it was.

"Zoey, he's gone," someone in the group said, her blue eyes filling with tears and her look so fierce, he shut his mouth with an audible click.

"He's not. I can still save him. I'm his female; he didn't choose me for no reason," she retorted, crouching down slowly so he could have the higher ground.

Zoey truly hoped this was the last time she would ever have to save Ishmael like this. She hoped she would never have to see him in this sorry state again.

Ishmael had begun quivering, his adrenaline rush finally beginning to wear off and the extent of his numerous wounds catching up with him, but Zoey wouldn't relent.

She moved a touch closer, Ishmael letting out another growl of warning, the girl offering the Hunter a brave smile.

"C'mon, Ishmael, snap out of it. I'm here," she said, Ishmael tilting his head to the side as he tried to understand. Looking at the others, Zoey dropped her voice. "Hey, any of you have cookies?"

"I've got some," one of the men replied, looking amused when Zoey took them after he removed them from his pocket. "Ish likes cookies?"

"They're his favorite," Zoey murmured in return, holding one of the cookies out towards the Hunter. Ishmael stared, incredibly still, making no move towards the cookie Zoey held in her outstretched hand. Zoey chanced moving closer, Ishmael continuing to hold his ground, no growl escaping him as Zoey held the cookie out once more.

After a few agonizing minutes, Ishmael stretched his neck out, sniffing in the direction of the cookie, his eyes not leaving Zoey's face. He crept a tiny bit closer, reaching one clawed hand out to try and take the cookie, but Zoey shook her head, prompting a growl. A little closer still, then Ishmael took Zoey's fist in both hands, attempting to bite the cookie, the girl's smile becoming a little more genuine.

When this tactic didn't work, Ishmael began attempting to pry her fingers apart, eventually biting her quite hard with a growl in an attempt to make her relinquish her grip.

Zoey refused, not so much as a grimace crossing her face, the Hunter paused after licking her hand a few times.

"That's right, you remember," Zoey whispered, opening her hand. Ishmael took the cookie in his mouth and backed up a step, catching her arm in one hand when she tried to retract it and holding her in place while he ate the offered treat. Zoey waited patiently, heart thundering in her ears, hoping she was finally breaking through to him.

When Ishmael was finished eating, he crept forward again, pulling her arm firmly so she had no choice but to lean into him. Zoey took a deep breath, hoping this wasn't about to lead to a rather uncomfortable situation. Ishmael was inhaling her scent deeply, licking the side of her neck as a rumble of contentment escaped his throat.

"Zoey," he growled, very clearly, the girl letting out a breathless laugh.

"That's right," she replied.

"Iiissshhhmael."

"That's you, you're Ishmael."

"Shan say… kill." Zoey blinked at the Hunter, shocked. "Iissshhmael kill. Kill ffforrr… Shan. Forrr… Zoey."

Ishmael was speaking… he was speaking in some semblance of sentences!

"Hhhnn… hhhel…p. Hhhelllp Zoey." The Hunter pressed a bloody claw into her shoulder, Zoey nodding.

"Yeah, you helped me. You saved me. You're a hero, Ishmael."

As she spoke, there was a great rumble, a huge truck pulling up nearby and scattering the crowd that had gathered. Zoey straightened, Ishmael right next to her, the two of them watching in wonder as the door of the truck opened.

Francis stood up, staring at Zoey in relief before waving his shotgun at both of them. The other door opened to reveal Luke, who tossed some sort of mechanical thing on the ground and nodded in their direction.

"Saddle up, sweetheart," Francis growled. "We're getting out of here."

Zoey kept her grip on Ishmael tight as she moved around to the back of the truck, watching the door open briefly before turning her eyes to the rest of the people around them. Ishmael was the first on the truck, Zoey taking a moment before moving to join him, raising her hand in farewell.

"If you're all smart… you'll follow our lead. Being in this place is no better than being held hostage, there are other places we can go, I'm sure… Never stop fighting, the world we're looking for is still out there," she called, the door of the truck beginning to close.

The people of the encampment, even some of the soldiers exchanged glances with one another.

All of them knew Zoey was right… And all of them hoped that Zoey and Ishmael would find that world of their own with their friends along for the ride.

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

So, there we have it! I know, I know, not much of a conclusion… but this isn't quite the end! Did you think I would leave you hanging there?!

Coming soon, holiday specials! Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc, smaller side stories explaining life after Mutation…

And a third story in the series! Keep watching and waiting folks, I promise not to disappoint you!


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